Zuma's Courage
by HavocHound
Summary: *Sequel to Zuma's Fear* Six months have passed since Zuma left the Paw Patrol and has grown stronger since then. He now ventures to his old home to seek revenge against Damian Stone, the man who ruined his life, as he sheds his old identity for a more monstrous one. Meanwhile, Rocky and the rest of the Paw Patrol gear up to take down Stone themselves.
1. Memories and Justice

_**AN: I promised I would do it following the New Year and we are. The sequel I've been getting people begging for: Zuma's Courage. I had to plan this one out a lot. There were a lot of directions I was thinking of doing, but I'm now satisfied with what I got. This is going to still be a dark story and I do recommend that if you're not interested in that stuff, that you take caution reading this one or skip it.**_

 _ **There is one thing I would like to comment on though. Nobody (except those who I allow) can use Damian Stone for their stories. Unless you have permission from me, you are now allowed to use him. I am proud of this OC I created thank you.**_

 _ **The lyrics are based on off Voodoo Doll by VIXX. And don't worry, this is the only chapter the lyrics will appear.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol or Voodoo Doll by VIXX.**_

* * *

" _ **How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams"-Bram Stoker**_

* * *

 _ **Born from a tragic heart that is aching.**_

 _ **Lies a darker strength born from the bloody making.**_

 _ **Can you devoid your fear? Can you get rid of your tears?**_

 _ **Innocent blood in pain, just like the act of Cain.**_

 _ **Know that, your time, is coming up.**_

 _ **To face, your fate, hiding in the dark.**_

 _ **It's time to unleash your rage, rip free the chains and the cage.**_

 _ **Take everything from him, just like he took from you.**_

 _ **Tick Tock, Tick Tock, the time has finally come.**_

 _ **Torn between life and death, you have suffered enough, dear pup.**_

 _ **Only one's death shall it end today, from your claw or from his blade.**_

 _ **Unleash your courage now, and face your enemy.**_

 _ **It's either life or death, so choose your destiny.**_

 _ **There is no more turning back, do it for love or payback.**_

 _ **Tick Tock, Tick Tock, the time has finally come.**_

 _ **To become a monster, you must be become prepared.**_

 _ **To lose away the feelings of those you once cared.**_

 _ **Sacrifice your love, sacrifice your joy.**_

 _ **Shed away the past, the former you must pass.**_

 _ **Shutting your heart, you've become a beast.**_

 _ **Your pain, and tears, are now released.**_

 _ **But, what have you lost forever?**_

 _ **The bonds you treasured most are now severed.**_

 _ **Tick Tock, Tick Tock, the time has finally come.**_

 _ **Torn between life and death, you have suffered enough dear pup.**_

 _ **Only one's death shall it end today, from your claw or from his blade.**_

 _ **Unleash your courage now, and face your enemy.**_

 _ **It's either life or death, so choose your destiny.**_

 _ **There is no more turning back, do it for love or payback.**_

 _ **Tick Tock, Tick Tock, the time has finally come.**_

 _ **Should I love? Should I hate? I do not know.**_

 _ **Should I love? Should I hate? I do not know.**_

 _ **Yeah, open the gates of burning hell,**_

 _ **time to ring the judgement bell,**_

 _ **blood and tears are all that remain,**_

 _ **nightmares of doom and acts of pain.**_

 _ **All that remains of my soul, is a empty shallow hole,**_

 _ **nothing can save me, just let me be.**_

 _ **Let my courage set me free.**_

 _ **No longer do you smile, no longer you give laughter.**_

 _ **All that you once had, you run from ever faster.**_

 _ **Even though, deep down, you still cry for the ones you love.**_

 _ **In the end, there will come a time, when you must decide.**_

 _ **Will you let your last chance of happiness die?**_

 _ **The choice is yours in the end, will you choose love or revenge?**_

 _ **Tick Tock, Tick Tock, the time has finally come.**_

 _ **Should I love? Should I hate? I do not know.**_

 _ **Should I love? Should I hate? I do not know.**_

 _ **The time has finally come.**_

* * *

Rocky always liked the warm summer days. The feeling to the sun's rays hitting his belly made him feel like a flower, growing with energy and bursting with happiness. The feeling of the soft grass against his back only furthered increased the smile decorated on his muzzle. His perfect sunlight was however ruined by a shadow that came across his face. Opening his eyes in annoyance, he soon smiled upon seeing something better.

"Heya, Wocky, enjoying your summer nap?" asked Zuma, smirking down at the mixed breed.

Yawning, he got up and smiled at the younger lab. "I was until a certain lab got in the way with his big head."

"Hey. I'm not that big headed," said Zuma, puffing out his cheeks in such an adorable way that it made Rocky chuckle. "I was going to ask if you wanted to play, but if you're busy…"

"Not at all," said Rocky, wagging his tail before he tapped Zuma's head. "In fact, your it!"

"Hey! No fair!" shouted Zuma, but he laughed alongside his best friend as they ran across the field.

Rocky sprinted as best as he could, but Zuma had always been the more athletic of the two. Not to mention his size made it easier for him to move faster. It didn't take long for the Lab to jump up and tackle Rocky as they rolled across the field, laughing and struggling to see who would come up on top. Of course, that small size had a weakness as Rocky was stronger and managed to pin Zuma on the ground. "Gotcha! So what are ya gonna do now?!" asked Rocky as he stuck out his tongue.

"This," answered Zuma before he gently pressed his lips against Rocky's nose.

The mixed breed blushed like a rose as he saw the cunning smirk and fire burning behind Zuma's eyes. He should have been questioning why Zuma had kissed him like that, but his body reacted first by slowly lowering his lips and placing them in Zuma's embrace.

The two moaned as they melted into each other's arms, their lips locked against one another. Zuma tasted so sweet and cool, like peppermint mixed with sugar. Rocky continued to press down as he focused on breathing through the nose to make the kiss last longer. He could also smell Zuma's aroma that slowly began to turn him on.

He whimpered when Zuma ended the kiss, but Rocky sill kept his eyes closed as he kissed the water pup's neck softly and gently. "Wocky… do you love me?"

"Yes," he whispered, nuzzling his cheeks and smiling. "I love you, Zuma."

"… when why didn't you save me?"

Rocky's eyes widened as he slowly lifted his head and gasped in horror.

His Zuma. His best friend. His love… was bleeding from a giant cut across his throat. With tears in his darkening eyes, Zuma lifted his bloody paw and caressed the stunned Rocky. "Why… did… you let me… die..." The eyes finally closed as the paw went limp and collapsed into the dirt with no resistance.

"No… no nonononono NO!" shouted Rocky as he shook Zuma's body. "Zuma! Speak to me! Zuma! _ZUMA!"_

* * *

"Zuma!" shouted Rocky as he got up and cursed upon hitting his head against his pup house. He rubbed his noggin before realizing that he had a nightmare, and it was still dark outside. Grumbling, he got out of his pup house and made for the grass backyard behind the Lookout.

The others were still sleeping, all in their pup houses. Even Marshall, who came back not too long ago from his mental coma, was sleeping peacefully. Rocky could only envy him, especially after the treatment he had gotten from Damian Stone that fateful day. The dally occasionally smile and joked, but often he was staring out in the open, training with Chase, or talking with Ryder.

 _Still… I'm glad he's home,_ thought Rocky as he continued his walk. It felt better to have one of the pup's home… but it was still incomplete. _Zuma…_

Six months. Six months of searching and he hadn't found a single trace of the pup who was his friend, brother, and secret desire. He still refused to think Zuma was dead. He knew deep in his heart the pup was still alive. Unless a body was brought to him, Rocky would forever believe this until the day he died.

Looking over Adventure Bay in the dark of the night, Rocky thought about the happier times before Damian Stone came and ruined it all. He heard rumors when he ventured near Costal City that he was active again with his criminal ways and it took all the willpower in the world for Rocky not to go there, find him, and end him in the worst way possible. _I'd love nothing more than to rip out his throat and piss on his grave._

He wasn't the only one. Chase. Marshall. Skye. Ryder, and even Rubble all desired to see the monster that ruined their family dead. The one who took away and broke one of their own.

Rocky looked up at the stars and saw a shooting one. He never really put his faith in wishes or prayers. Not since Ryan died with not a single plea from whatever power that was up there saving him. But just this once, he was willing to believe again. Anything if it meant Zuma was safe.

 _Please… I don't know who is listening… just let him be okay… let me see him again…_ thought Rocky.

"Praying for Zuma?" asked a voice which made Rocky slowly turn around to see Marshall with a small smile. "Mind if I pray with you?"

"Go ahead, I'm done," whispered Rocky as Marshall sat beside him and lowered his head in silence. For a few minutes, Rocky continued to watch the night sky before Marshall brought his head up.

"He'll come back," whispered Marshall.

"Huh?" asked Rocky, turning his head.

"Zuma. He'll come back," said Marshall with a small smile towards the mixed breed. "I don't think he's dead either, Rocky. I think he's just… lost… and torn…"

"… you know how he's feeling, don't you?" asked Rocky.

"… I too wanted to die," admitted Marshall. "I was too scared to do it myself so I asked Chase to do it for me… he pretty much set me straight with some harsh wording…" He closed his eyes. "That woman… and her baby… I still sometimes see them… covered in blood and bullet holes… it should have been me… I was ready to die…"

"Did you want to?" asked Rocky.

"I didn't want too, but I thought I wasn't coming out of it alive so I made my peace," whispered Marshall, lowering his head. "I just didn't know what to feel when I found myself alive and the other two dead. I thought it was wrong. That me being alive was wrong. I didn't want to accept the fact that I was helpless to save two innocent people…"

He turned to Rocky and nodded. "And that's how Zuma feels. How he feels about us being hurt."

"… how can he get better if there is nobody there to help him?" choked Rocky, whimpering in shame. "I tried, but I failed him. I just wanted to protect him."

Marshall placed his paw on his friend's shoulder and nuzzled him. "You didn't fail him, Rocky. You did all you could. Zuma… he needs to find himself. Something that none of us can help him with. When he's ready to come back, he will come back."

"… how long will that take?"

"As much as it needs to…"

* * *

Lizabeth never cried as hard as she did until this very night. Her parents warned her about trusting strangers, especially boys her age, but she ignored them. Stuff like that only happened to other people you hear on the news, it would never happen to her. Yet her she was, recovering from the drug the boys slipped into her drink at the party, and had her tied up, gagged, and in her panties and bra as they debated who was going to take their first chance at her.

With her vision clearing up, she tried to look around to get a feeling of where she was. She recognized it as the nature reserve she volunteered to help at a few times when she was a girl scout. It was so freaky to see at night, not helped by the fact that the only light was a lamp lantern the boys had brought with them.

She struggled against her bonds, but they were tight to the point where her skin was coming off. Her struggle alerted her captors as the blond haired one smirked and walked over to her, his cold eyes staring into her teary ones. "I think the bitch is awake."

"So, are we going to do this or not?" asked the darker skinned one who had short black hair.

"We could always make her do all three of us," suggested the red haired one with a lick of his lips. "Women do have three holes after all."

Lizabeth nearly choked on her rising bile as she struggled even harder. The blond haired one grabbed her by the throat and started choking her. "Nah, this one looks like she'll bite your dick off. Safer to keep her gagged while two do her and one finishes her off." He pulled out a bowie knife and waved it in her face before grinning. "Now if you're a good little girl, and don't struggle, we'll let you go, okay?"

That was a lie and she knew it. These guys had no intention of letting her life after they were done with her, but fear forced her to nod.

"Rock, paper, scissors to see who gets her last?" suggested the darker skinned one as they got together and started playing the game.

Lizabeth closed her eyes and started doing something she never had done in a long time: pray. _God, if you really exist you'll help me! I'll start going to church again! I'll never have sex until I'm married! I'll even accept my step-mother as my real mom! Just please help me!_

"Dammnit! Why do I never go with rock," grumbled the darker skinned one as he leaned against one of the trees.

The other two went to get Lizabeth and forced her up. One of them made for her panties as she closed her eyes, hoping her horrible fate will just be quick. That was until she heard one of them scream and the other two jumped back, allowing her to fall back to the ground. Opening her eyes, she looked around and saw the third one, who lost the game, was missing.

"Shit! Did you see that, dude?!" asked the red haired one, looking around in a panic.

"I did, it was as fast as lighting! What was it!" shouted the blond, taking out his knife again. "Maybe a wolf?"

"Or maybe… oh crap what if it's… that thing?"

Lizabeth looked around, wondering what had happened and where the third possible rapist went. Her answer came with a decapitated head landing right next to her, its eyes widened and mouth open in gruesome horror. Despite having a gag on, she screamed and backed away to the point where her back leaned against the tree, kicking the dirt.

"Oh, shit! It is him! He's real! Run!" shouted the red haired one who tried to make a break for it, but that's when _it_ struck.

Like a blur, her tackled the rapist in the chest, sending him to the ground. A single growl and scream was all there was before whatever tackled it sunk its teeth into his neck and ripped it out. Lizabeth stared, frozen solid, as her would be rapist tried to hold off the bleeding of his torn neck, flailing around like a fish out of water. A few seconds and he stopped moving entirely as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

She stared at the now dead body before looking up at the creature that had killed him. It was small, about the size of a puppy, cloaked in what seemed to be brown rags stitched together. She couldn't see much of his body or face, but there was one thing she could see. A single yellow eye that made her spine tingle by the cold hatred beaming out of it. All directed at the last of the rapists.

The blond one, holding his knife out with his shaking hand, cut in the air and shouted, "S-s-stay back! Just stay back!"

The cloaked being didn't answer. He just charged forward with such speed that Lizabeth realized that it walked on four legs. It reached for the hand and clutched it with its jaws, making the blond criminal screaming. Spinning his body, he flipped the human over and crunched harder on the hand, breaking its bones.

It then went for a certain vital spot between the legs and bite even harder. The male human screaming even higher. The creature backed away, letting the wounded rapists hold his bleeding pelvis with his only good hand left. It then turned to her, making her wonder if it was going to hurt her too.

To her surprise, it went for her binding and began to chew threw them until her hands were free. She quickly ripped of the gag and gasped for breath before staring at the creature below.

"Run down that way," it whispered as it pointed right. Lizabeth was shocked that it sounded so young. "They left their van with the keys inside. Go home."

It turned around and made its way to the wounded rapist, trying to crawl his way to safety. Lizabeth gulped and asked, "W-what are you going to do to him?"

The creature stopped, keeping its back to her before answering. "Send him to hell."

That was all Lizabeth needed to hear before she rushed in the direction the creature told her to. Just as she left she heard the most awful screams that sounded like hell had indeed come to play with its prey. She didn't care if her savior was an angel or demon, she was just glad to get away.

It didn't take too long to find the van and, just as he said, the keys were inside. Reminding herself to follow everything she promised God just minutes ago, she turned the van on and made her way towards the nearby road.

* * *

 _Twenty minutes,_ thought Zuma as he licked the water of a nearby creek to wipe the blood from his mouth and teeth. _Lasted longer than the others._ He spat out a piece of skin and muscle he had between his teeth. He still hated the taste of flesh and blood, but had grown used to it over the years. Fresh rabbits, deer, and chipmunks were okay, but he wouldn't deny he missed the taste of dog food or cooked human food like burgers and hotdogs.

Taking the hood off his self-made cloak, he looked down at the face of a changed pup in six months. His fur had gotten a lot wilder, an almost savage look. He was a lot thinner, but leaner too with most of his baby fat now gone. But what had changed most was the eyes. No longer was there any joy or happiness in them… only a cold feeling of rage.

But most importantly, there was no fear inside of his eyes anymore. Blood didn't scare him. Knives didn't scare him. Death didn't scare him.

He was the cowardly pup no longer.

"I take it your latest hunt has been a success?" asked a familiar voice that made Zuma turn around and bowed before the great white wolf what stood before him.

"It has, Master Owiel," whispered Zuma before looking up at the one who had turned Zuma into what he is now.

It was hard to say what Oriel was to the pup. He wasn't a father, Greg would have that position forever in Zuma's heart, nor was he a brother, because Rocky was and always would be his brother. Even though he must hate him now for abandoning him. Teacher was the closest thing, yet Oriel didn't coddle or baby Zuma. He pushed him into limits and trials that were close to death, but made him stronger each time.

"You've grown stronger," said Oriel as he circled around Zuma. "No longer do I see a scared pup who wishes to die to end his pain. Rather a warrior with a talent for killing."

He then stopped. "But you are still living in fear."

Zuma's eyes widened in disbelief. "W-what? How?! I no longer fear blood! I have killed both creature and man! I am bwave now!"

"You are brave, but you still lack true courage," whispered Oriel as he pressed his paw against Zuma's chest. "There is something you fear deep inside of you as well as something you hate with utter most contempt… or rather someone."

Zuma growled as he whispered a name. A single name that made every blood vessel in his body burn with fiery rage. "Damian Stone."

"Yes, the man who killed your first family. Wounded your second one," whispered Oriel as he walked behind Zuma, staring into the moon. "A man you dream of killing every night if I am right to assume?"

"I have every wight to do so," whispered Zuma, closing his eyes. Even if he could no longer hear them, he could still see the dead bodies of his father, mother, and sister. Everyone dying from the blows he inflicted that killed Zuma's innocence forever. He thought about how his friends and Ryder had suffered, including Marshall who would never be the same again. "He took evewything from me. I want to take evewything from him."

"So, it is revenge you seek?" asked Oriel, snorting. "Revenge is nothing but a one-way trip to the grave. Even if you succeed, you won't find the peace you seek that way."

"There is no other way," whispered Zuma. "I can't go home to Adventure Bay. Not after evewything that's happened. I don't care anymore about my life or finding happiness, but I care about stopping Stone and making him pay for what he's done to me and everyone else."

Oriel was silent for a longtime.

Zuma closed his eyes and waited for him to scold him like always. Instead, he heard him say something very different. "Very well. If this is the path you wish to take, then so be it." He turned around and stared at Zuma straight in the eyes. "But know this. The path you take will hurt not just you, but others as well. If you truly take the path of vengeance, you will become a monster. Can you live with that?"

 _A monster, huh?_ Thought Zuma as he closed his eyes. _If being a monster is what it takes to take down a monster. So be it. I accept that fate._

"However," whispered Oriel as he turned away. "When you finally realize the true fear that you have inside of you… seek me out… your final lesson will then begin."

And with that said, Oriel dashed into the forest. In an instant, Zuma knew that he wouldn't see him again. Not unless Oriel wanted to. Alone in the dark, Zuma closed his eyes as the words of his master rang in his ear.

He knew a part of him desired to go home. To make himself happy, but he couldn't do it and there was only one way to finally end it. He slowly reached for his pup tag, the one thing he had left of his old life. He closed his eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to drip down. He could still see the Lookout in all its glory, shining like a beacon of hope for Adventure Bay. Ryder, his second owner, his caretaker who had given him a second life, playing games on his pup pad as he waited for an emergency call. Chase, the leader he trusted with his life, playing tag with his best friend and brother figure Marshall, whose laugh could make anyone sad turn happy in an instant. Skye, flying in the air with such a grace that even the birds would be envious. Rubble, eating away at his lunch like it was his last meal, before burping so loud the trees shook. And Rocky…

 _Wocky…_ thought Zuma as a tear this time did come down.

His best friend. His older brother. His protector. His rock.

He could still feel his warm embrace they night they became friends. For one split moment, he wanted that hug more than anything.

He ripped the tag off and threw it into the creek, watching it flow down the stream until he could see nothing of it no more.

Nothing would hold him back anymore.

Nothing awaited him anymore.

Nothing would weaken him anymore.

With his heart sealed, he turned away and disappeared into the night.


	2. The Pups Are Back In Town

_**AN: I know some people have been asking for the second chapter to come as soon as possible, but I follow an order on the things I update. I have other projects I do as well, but to be honest Paw Patrol fanfiction just comes to me very quickly when I have the chance. This chapter will finally feature Damian Stone by the way, as always, I urge people to skip a scene if it is too much for them since anything with Stone usually has brutality on an M rating level.**_

 _ **Some people have asked me if I will be putting my stories on any other site besides . And I am planning to, on DeviantArt. I'll be opening an account soon with the name HavocHound and posting my Paw Patrol stories on there (not all of them, but the ones I think are the best). I'll also be seeking artists to do Paw Patrol art or comics with. I'm very picky with who I work with art wise since I go for good and interesting styles.**_

 _ **Another interesting thing I've noticed is some people have typed in a fanwiki about Marshall Gone Missing as a basis for a Paw Patrol Movie. While I am flattered by that, Marshall Gone Missing focuses too much on certain pups more than others. To have a complete movie you need to give equal focus on all the pups. Still, out of all my ideas it would be the closest to a movie plot.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol**_

* * *

" _ **The source of evil is desire, greed, and anger.**_ _ **"-**_ _**Aleksandra Layland**_

* * *

Once morning came, Zuma took his cloak and made his way towards the direction of the small town that lived near the forest. He didn't bother waiting to see if Oriel was going to come or not; the wolf appeared and disappeared as he wished. Not many people came to the woods these days, mostly thanks to the rumors that a wolf spirit was killing those in the name of justice. Of course, Zuma was no wolf, but he had no problems ending lives now. Criminals, like those rapists from last night, who did their ill deeds in these woods were perfect targets to train and kill. The first time had been hard, Zuma had felt disgust over his actions, but over time it got better and he just shut whatever regrets he had out.

There was no point mourning over them, they were nothing more than scum who deserved to burn in hell for their sins. Of course, the one person he wanted to kill more than anything was still a distance away. Zuma didn't know how he was going to find a way to enter Costal City, but he would walk on his own like he did from Adventure Bay if he had to.

He made it in record time towards the small town, where most folks were still sleeping in. Now that he was here, Zuma needed a way to get to Costal City. He had no money for a bus ride, and it would take at least a three days on paws alone. _If I could get somebody to drive me… wish I had my hovercart._

He missed driving it. Feeling the wind and water in his face as he pushed on the gas and let the engine roar. He could still feel the currents of the waves underneath as he fought against them to go his way. He missed diving into the ocean, feeling his entire body sink into the deep blue he had loved since he was little.

 _Maybe I'll take a swim in the ocean when I arrive,_ thought Zuma with a small smile. Swimming in lakes and rivers was okay, but it was nothing compared to the sea.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a door to a nearby trade store opened. A man with a yellow beard and mustache exited the store while carrying a crate of supplies. He carried them to a nearby pickup truck and placed them inside. Curious, Zuma walked over and cleared his throat to catch his attention. "Hi, your twuck?"

"Yeah, what of it?" asked the driver.

"Where are you going?" asked Zuma.

"West Palm, 30 miles from here."

 _That's ten miles from Costal City,_ thought Zuma. "Mind if I wide with you? Wrying to get Costal City."

The human raised his eyebrow. "Not sure. Why should I?"

"I can help you deliver your stuff," offered Zuma.

"Pass. I got help when arrive there," replied the driver, crossing his arms.

"I can be a guard dog?"

"Got a shotgun."

Zuma sighed. "Never mind then."

The driver shrugged and went into his car as Zuma watched him and the truck drive away. _Guess it's the high road for me._

With time wasting, Zuma took a deep breath and started going the same direction on his own four paws.

* * *

Meanwhile, a long distance away, Mayor Goodway was on her way to the bank with her purse chicken bucking along the way. "Now, now Chickaletta. Mommy needs to go to the bank first before we can buy you that new Chipolata Corn Meal you've been wanting to try out." Her pet's response was another buck.

Unbeknownst to her, she was being followed by two dogs, one a Norwegian Elkhound and the other a Vizsla. The Elkhound smirked upon seeing the Mayor and nodded to the Vizsla who charged out and barked a few times to get the Mayor's attention. Meanwhile, the Elkhound went the other way around the block. Alerted by the barking, Mayor Goodway turned around and saw the Vizsla arrive before whimpering and giving the puppy dog eyes. "E-e-e-excuse me, M-m-m-ma'am. My name is Victor and… I lost my family a long time ago… I've been on my own ever s-s-since they d-d-died… I'm so hungry and just n-n-need some food. If… if you can be so generous…"

"Oh, you poor, dear. Wait a second, I do have some dog bisects I keep for the Paw Patrol," replied Mayor Goodway. However, just as she was distracted, the Elkhound managed to come up from behind and snatch her purse. "Hey! Come back with my purse and- _CHICKALETTA!_ "

"Buck! Buck!" cried Chickaletta as she was carried away by the two dogs who ran across the street.

Across from the road, an Ibizan Hound was in a driver's seat from a car they had hot wired. A pair of leggings were on his rear legs to help him reach the petals. Once the two dogs jumped into the car, they shut the door and told their partner to punch it. Stepping hard on the wheel, the dogs and Chickaletta were thrown back against the seats as the car widely screeched away.

"Come back here you chicken nappers!" shouted Mayor Goodway as she tried to chase after the car but it was already long gone. "Oh, no. Oh, no. My pour little chicken has been chicknapped! I better call the Paw Patrol!" She then remembered her phone was in her purse and began to panic even more. However, that soon changed when she saw a jogger checking his phone and rushed over, grabbing it. "Sorry! Emergency! As Mayor, I need this phone for a hostage situation!"

* * *

"And done!" shouted Rocky, putting away his blow torch. "H.A.V.O.C. is complete!"

"Nice work, Rocky," said Ryder, petting his pup. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Thanks, Ryder… I'm glad I stayed. I did miss you all," whispered Rocky, lowering his head.

"Well, with the H.A.V.O.C. equipment set up we can go ahead and start looking for Zuma," said Ryder before his pup pad rang. Taking it, he answered it. "Ryder here."

" _Ryder! It's Mayor Goodway! I need the Paw Patrol, now! That is if you not on your hiatus…"_

Ryder paused as he looked at Rocky. It had been so long since they done a mission of any kind. He knew that the pups missed being a rescue team. And so did he. It still felt incomplete without Zuma around, but one nod from Rocky was all Ryder need.

"You know what, Mayor. I think we're okay to start working again," said Ryder who gave his best smile. Truth was, he felt like he and the team needed to do rescues again. Even if Zuma wasn't with them, they had to become what they once were. "What's the emergency?"

" _Some criminal dogs stole my purse! It's got my wallet, my phone, and even Chickaletta! You have to save her, Ryder! Please!"_

"We're on our way! No job is too big, no pup is too small!" said Ryder, feeling good about saying those words again.

* * *

"Hiya!" shouted Skye as she judo flipped Chase off his paws. "How was that?"

"Good, Skye!" said Chase as he got up and nodded. "You're really getting better at those lessons."

"I had a great teacher," said Skye, winking at Chase who couldn't help but blush.

"My turn!" said Marshall as he stepped forward and bowed to Skye as they circled each other.

Chase sat next to Rubble who was watching the spare. "I still think biting them in the balls is better," he commented.

Laughing, Chase responded, "If you want to go that way, Rubble, I won't stop you." He continued his focus on Skye and Marshall, smiling at the fact that both of his friends had improved greatly.

"You still like her, don't you?" asked Rubble, making Chase blush. "Why?"

"… it's not easy to stop carrying about a person you love, Rubble," muttered Chase with a sigh. "I'll always care about her, but I've accepted she's not ready. Maybe one day she'll change her mind or maybe one day I'll find someone else to love. But no matter what I'll always have some place in my heart for her."

Suddenly, the collars beeped as Ryder's voice rang in the air. _"Paw Patrol, to the Lookout!"_

"Ryder needs us!" shouted the pups automatically.

"Gotcha!" shouted Skye as she took advantage of Marshall's distraction to grab him by the collar with her mouth, spin around, and throw him across the sky.

"Woahhhhh!" shouted Marshall as he sailed towards the Lookout with the doors opening for him. He then crashed into the elevator, face first, and slowly slid down until he was on the floor where the others arrived soon after.

"Just like old times, huh Marshall?" asked Chase.

"Yeah, but at least I got first... ow..." moaned Marshall as the elevator closed and went up.

* * *

After suiting up and heading towards the top, the pups all got out and stood in attention. It felt both good and awkward to be standing in such a position after such a long time. Especially, since there was one open spot between Rubble and Marshall. "Paw Patrol ready for action, Ryder sir!" shouted Chase before grinning. "And it feels good to say after so long, sir."

"And it's good to see us all back together as a team… sorta…" muttered Ryder, as he and the pups all looked at Zuma's spot and whimpered. "I'm sure he's fine pups. Besides, Zuma would want us to continue being a team and helping people."

"R-right, so what's the mission?" asked Rocky, trying to move things along. He did his best to push his feelings back as it was necessary to focus on the task at hand.

"We have both a robbery and a kidnapping," said Ryder as he pressed the button and brought down the big TV screen. It showed three dogs of different breeds, taking the Mayor's purse with Chickaletta inside before getting in a car and driving off. "Three dogs just stole Mayor Goodway's purse with all her belongings, including Chickaletta."

"Oh, poor Chickaletta," commented Skye.

"We're going to get her back and stop the thieves right in their tracks," said Ryder as he pressed a button and Skye's pup tag and helicopter appeared. "Skye, you'll follow the car with your helicopter. The Mayor's phone as a GPS tracking device so we can track the car with our equipment."

"Let's take to the skies!" shouted Skye before giving a flip.

Next was Chase's logo. "Chase, we'll use your net to trap the three dogs and then carry them to the police station so they can get booked."

"These paws uphold the laws!" shouted Chase, looking proud.

"Now we just need a plan to stop the car so we can catch them," said Ryder.

"I think I got an idea, Ryder!" said Rocky as a quick plan came to his mind. "But I'll need Marshall and Rubble to help out."

"Alright, Rocky. I'll trust your judgement. Everyone ready to get back in the field?"

"Paw Patrol is on a roll, Ryder!" shouted the team howling with excitement. For the first time in such a long time, they all felt like their old selves again.

"Then let's go!" shouted Ryder as he made his way to his poll and used it to slide down. The rest of the pups all went towards the slide and cheered (or panicked in Marshall's case when he slipped) as they made it to their vehicles.

* * *

Despite wearing the cloak, it was not that hot out for Zuma. He had gotten used to living in the hot forest while dealing with the chilly nights. He wouldn't deny missing a good bed and a pup house, but each trial made Zuma stronger. He had been continuing on the road until he saw something that made him run faster.

A beat-up truck, more importantly, the truck he saw the driver go on not too long ago. It had crashed into a tree and there was scattered debris everywhere with empty boxes scattered around. Worried for the human, he sniffed for any scent he had until he smelled him… and blood.

Hurrying over to the other side, Zuma found a small blood trail until he saw the human clutching his bleeding side. He winced before looking at Zuma and blinked a few times. "You're that pup from town."

Zuma didn't bother saying anything. He just rushed over and forced the human to move his hands so he could see the wound. To his relief, it wasn't life threatening but there was the case of infection and bleeding out if he wasn't stopped. "You have a fiwst aid kit?"

"Behind the driver's seat."

Nodding, Zuma went to the open door and looked around the back of the seat. Sure enough, he found the first aid kit and carried it to the human. Cleaning the wound, he rubbed some cream on it before bandaging it up. Relaxing a bit, he nodded to Zuma. "Thanks. Name's Nathan."

"I'm Zuma," replied Zuma as he took his hood off and nodded. "Who did this? Who attacked you?

"How do you know I was attacked?" asked Nathan as he slowly got up, hugging his truck for support.

"There are skid marks for two cars," pointed out Zuma towards the road. "All your supply boxes were bwoken into and nothing is scattered awound. Finally, I smelled the gunpowder from the bullet in your waist."

Nathan chuckled. "Not bad, you some detective?"

"No, but I had a friend who is one," replied Zuma, feeling a bit of pain in his chest as he thought about Chase. Soon the thoughts of the rest of his friends entered his mind, but he forced them down. "So, who attacked you?"

"Some goddamn punks who came out of nowhere," growled Nathan. "Knocked my car off its ass and shot me before I could get my gun. Took all my stuff and speed off in the direction of town."

"Want help getting revenge?" asked Zuma, glaring.

"Might be better to get the police involved," replied Nathan as he entered his truck and turned the keys. To his great relief, the motor was still working and the roar of the engine could be heard.

"If there is one thing I've learned it's that sometimes you need to go beyond the normal rules to strike down evil," replied Zuma, thinking about all the times Detective Shaw and the police tried to stop Damian, but failed. While he didn't blame Shaw, he knew that man was still forced to obey the rules. Zuma wasn't going to follow that. He wasn't going to follow any rule but one: show no mercy.

"Not sure if I agree with ya, but if you want to help get my stuff back I ain't gonna look down on some real help," Nathan said as he opened the side door. "Hop in. I'll get you that ride you wanted."

Nodding, Zuma entered the truck and closed the door. He sat calmly as possible while waiting for Nathan to drive on the road. While this was going to delay him heading to Costal City, Zuma wasn't going to let these punks get away with what they did. _Think of it as a warm up exercise before the real deal. After these guys? Damian Stone._

* * *

Most men of genius loved perfecting their craft. Michelangelo with his art. Hemmingway with his writing. Einstein with his math. Perfection was something all great men and women strove for in their desires for their work to become famous around the world. However, infamy has a way of sticking out a bit more. Hitler with his Holocaust. Stalin with his massacres. Bundy with his murders. Stone admired those who stood out the most in history despite their actions. It wasn't that they were evil, they just dared to do something that hadn't been done before and it make them famous in his mind.

Evil and good would always be nothing more than replacement words for "agree" and "disagree". Stone himself never believed that there was any true morality the preachers and priests always went on about. Any real true loving God would have stopped all the "evil" a long time ago. And a cruel one would have just made the air out acid. As far as Stone was concerned, there was no God. No Good or Evil. No reward or punishment after death. All there was is life and enjoying it until you die. You just had to be smart, brutal, and not give two shits about anyone but yourself.

Even Stone knew he was going to die someday. But what he wanted to be remembered long after he was dead. If that meant breaking a few laws, killing a few people, so what?

"Take the bag off," said Stone as he took a smoke, but carefully made sure not to get any ash on his white Italian made suit. Just because he like to wear gangster clothes didn't mean he didn't like to wear something fancy once and awhile. _Besides, makes me feel like Michael Corleone._

A man in his late forties gasped for air as the sack was taken of his head. He looked around what was his meat shop's freezer and tried to run upon seeing Damian. However, the ropes that tied him to the chair made sure he was going nowhere. "Oh God. Oh God, no."

Smirking, Damian moved towards the man and clasped him on the shoulder. Giving the man a wink, he said, "Robert. Robert. My favorite butcher. Well, second favorite really. Hank down the street gives a mean roast, you know?"

"S-S-Stone! I didn't do anything. I got your money! I got your money right in my safe!" shouted Robert, sweat pouring down his bald head.

"Oh, I'm not here about money," said Damian Stone as he started circling around the man. "I'm here because someone has been telling a certain detective whose been hunting for me some information about me. You wouldn't know anything about that…" He leaned down and whispered in the crying man's ears. "… would you, Robert?"

"I didn't talk! I didn't say anything to no cops! God, Damian I got a daughter and I would never endanger her! Not after my wife died!" shouted Robert, shaking his head as Damian leaned on his bald head as if he was a stump.

"Yeah, I figured that already Robert. You're a spineless sack of crap and you wouldn't even rat on ISIS if they were camping on your front lawn," chuckled Damian as he clapped his hands. "Now your daughter on the other hand… well she always did have that sense of 'righteousness' inside of her."

Robert's entire face went bleach white much to Damian's satisfaction. He never got tired of this. Scaring the living souls out of people. That was his art: giving fear to those around him. Fear was something he understood and delivered very well. If there was one thing people feared more than death or harm to themselves, it was death and harm to their loved ones. How many times had he heard the screaming, pleading, and begging for mercy to those of his victims who were willing to die if those they cared for lived? How many times did he deny it with a smile on his face?

He watched as two of his men carried a seventeen-year-old blond haired girl with a sock in her mouth and tied up by her wrists. She was struggling as hard as she could, but he was helpless as they lifted her up and held her up by a meat hook that tried to her bindings. Damian walked up to the girl who tried to kick him, but he easily dodges and punched her in the face to stop her. "Bad girl. Didn't Daddy teach you manners?"

"Stone! I bed you! I'll do anything! Just let my daughter go! She's sorry! I'm sorry! Just pleaseeeee!" the father begged, sobbing so loud that it echoed in the room.

"Well, I am feeling in a good mood so maybe I'll let her live, but only if you play a game with me," said Damian with a smirk. "Bring them here boys."

Two of his muscles nodded and presented to them crowd two identical green buckets. Damian walked over to Robert and wrapped an arm around him while giving a big smile. "Okay, so one of these buckets contains simple water. Nothing bad about it, I promise. The other one? Get this. Battery acid." Robert's head snapped towards Stone's. "Oh yeah. Have you ever seen flesh melt with that shit? It's fucking cool. Fascinating to watch people melt like the Wicked Witch of the West."

Upon hearing that, Robert's daughter struggled even more.

"Now, you have to make a choice of what your daughter gets drenched in. Guess wrong, and well I hope they have funerals in soup cans. Guess right, and your daughter just gets a nasty cold. Ugh, personally I'd rather take the acid. I hate getting sick." Robert began to hyperventilate as Damian got off and pulled a gun out. "Also, you have ten seconds to choose or I just blow her brains out as well as yours. On-"

"Right! The one on the right!" shouted Robert.

"Man, not even going to let me get to nine at least? At least, let it be dramatic," wined Damian before putting the gun away. Snapping to the goon on the right, he unleashed the containments within his bucket.

The girl screamed for a second, but it faded when she realized her skin wasn't melting. Robert sighed in relief and thanked God while Damian couldn't help but clap. "Wow, you're quite a lucky guy." Taking the cigarette out and stomping it on the floor he then walked away from Robert and snapped to the guy on the left. "Too bad I gotta get rid of this batter acid."

"Eh?" asked Robert, but before he could realize what was happening the bucket was thrown at him as well as its contents.

Robert's screams roared out as the acid flayed his flesh and began to melt his skin. His eyes had even got some of it and it was melting inside as well. His daughter flailed and screamed upon seeing her father melting to muscle and bone before her very eyes. Damian, watching the scene with a satisfied smirk, asked one of his goons, "You getting this on film?"

Although he was using his phone to tape the entire thing, the man was turning away in disgust. "Y-yeah."

"Good, make sure to send this to Detective Shaw later. Sure, it will pop a few blood vessels… man I think I can even see his brain from here," replied Damian with awe. The daughter continued to scream despite the sock in her mouth and Damian rolled his eyes before drawing his pocket knife, Shiva.

A split second he stabbed her in the throat with it, twisting it a bit before pulling it out and letting her slowly choke on her own blood. "Well, I'm bored now. Come boys, let's get out of here."

Damian and his goons left the meat room and left the two for dead in the freezing cold. It would be three hours before the police arrived to get them out of there following the message sent to Detective Shaw.


	3. Burning With Passion

_**AN: Sorry for being so late. I like to take my time to make sure the fics are well written and detailed good. That and it's been busy for me at my job. It's evaluation months so I've been working extra hard to get a raise or promotion. This chapter is only going to focus on the Paw Patrol and Zuma. No Damian Stone this time folks. One person once messaged me asking if this takes place in the canon universe. Sadly, no. This has gone all the way into AU territory and as such we won't see characters like Everest or Tracker or Danny X or others Post Season 1. It's why I also haven't had Yumi teach the pups Pup-Fu since that was a Season 3 thing.**_

 _ **Currently as I write this, Mission Paw has not come out yet. I am planning to hopefully do something with that episode provided I like it and there is material I can use for it in a fic. Will I add Sweetie to any of my current fanfics? Chances are no, sorry on that, but maybe in the future.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol**_

* * *

" _ **When you start out in a team, you have to get the teamwork going and then you get something back."-**_ _**Michael Schumacher**_

* * *

Zuma continued to keep his eyes on the tracks that were left on the road while sitting in the passenger seat. Nathan didn't engage in much small talk which was fine by him. He needed to keep his focus on finding the trail. Of course, being a dog, Zuma couldn't help but have his head sticking out and his tongue in the wind. Again, it reminded him of the times he used to surf, windboard, or play around in his hoovercart, but he could never have those fun times again. Zuma wished that Damian Stone didn't escape all those months ago. Perhaps things would have been different and he would have just gone on living his new life in peace.

 _Detective Shaw was right,_ thought Zuma with a sigh. _Fate is a bitch._

"So do you have an owner or a family?" asked Nathan, asking as he kept his eye on the road. "Someone to take care of you?"

"No, my family… died and… I left my owner and fwiends," replied Zuma, trying not to think about Marsha, Greg, Shelly, or the Paw Patrol.

"Treated you wrong?"

"No!" shouted Zuma, quickly but soon calmed down. "I left because it was best… I… I bwought suffering to them…." Imagines began to appear in his mind: Chase's expression when Skye was forced to reject his feelings, Rubble's tears in fear of Damian Stone, Marshall's broken body, Ryder's guilt, Rocky revealing the death of his little brother due to his fear. "It was best to leave them."

Nathan didn't say anything following that and Zuma was grateful. He didn't want to explain further. His thoughts were interrupted when he saw the tracks veer off the road and into the woods nearby. Barking for the truck to stop, Zuma got out and sniffed the tracks as they lead towards the woods, a clear dirt path made for them.

"That leads to some abandoned cabins that haven't been used. Had to sleep in one a long time ago when I ran out of gas and had to wait until morning to call for help," replied Nathan as he got out of the truck and looked in the same direction.

"How many cabins?" asked Zuma as he pull on his hood.

"About four," replied Nathan. He stared as Zuma began to walk in the same direction. "Wait, you're not thinking of taking on those guys all by yourself? You'll get killed!"

"I'm showter and faster," replied Zuma, looking back. "I'll be fine. Besides, I'm not afraid of death."

"Still, let me come with you," replied Nathan.

"No, you're wounded. Get to a nearby town and get the police," replied Zuma as he rushed off before Nathan could stop him.

* * *

Chase knew he was supposed to be fully serious while he was doing his Paw Patrol duties, but he couldn't help but howl as he drove down the streets, sirens blasting at full sound. He was back. They were back. _The Paw Patrol is back!_

Skye had flown ahead of them to track the car using the GPS that was in the mayor's phone while Ryder was right beside him on his ATV. He looked at his own and gave him a smile to which he got one back. _Looks like I'm not the only one who is glad we're active again._

" _Ryder. Chase. I got my eyes on the vehicle. Looks like the dogs are still struggling to drive it. Woah, they just narrowly hit another car!"_ called Skye on her radio.

"Keep an eye on them, Skye. Any idea where they might be heading?" asked Ryder as he pulled out a map on his pup pad.

" _I think they're trying to get on the highway to Jake's Mountain,"_ replied Skye. _"They could easily ditch the truck and take to the woods on paws from there."_

"Better stop them before they get that far. Chase and I will take a shortcut to catch up." Ryder's pup pad then started ringing. "Talk to you later, Skye. I got Rocky on the phone." He pressed a button. "Rocky? What's the situation?"

" _We got a trap ready to go. Just need a location to where we can spring it,"_ replied Rocky on the other end.

"I'm sending a set of coordinates to your vehicle's map mode. I'll meet you there. Over and out," said Ryder as he ended the call. Turning to his police pup, Ryder replied, "Chase, you take that shortcut I mentioned earlier and keep following those thieves with Skye. I'll take another shortcut and cut ahead to Jake's. Be careful."

"Chase is on the case, Ryder, sir!" shouted Chase as he continued driving straight forward while Ryder took a right into a different street.

* * *

"Buck! Buck! Bucccaakk!" cried out Chickaletta, flapping her wings around and pecking everything that was in sight.

"Gah! She nearly got my eye!" shouted the Vizsla as he swiped at the annoying chicken. "Who the hell keeps a chicken in a purse?!"

"Just shut up and grab the bird!" cried the Ibizan Hound as he tried to focus on the road, taking a left. "Once we get to the mountain we can ditch the bird and head to the hide out!"

"Why not just eat it? I wouldn't mind having some chicken for dinner," asked the Norwegian Elkhound, licking his chops, but was suddenly tossed to the left along with the Vizsla and Chickaletta, resulting in him getting squished before they were tossed to the right. "Ugh! Can't you drive better?! You're worse than a blind grandmother!"

"You try driving one of these things with dog legs! It's not easy!" cried out the Ibizan Hound, lowering the gas on the petal. "It's bad enough I got that buzzing sound that's been following us for the past ten minutes."

"Buzzing sound?" asked the Norwegian Elkhound as he stuck his head out the window, looked up, and gasped at what he saw. "Oh, dog biscuits!"

"What is it? A helicopter?"

"That's no helicopter! That's Skye's helicopter!"

"Who?" asked the other two dogs.

"The Paw Patrol! They're after us!" shouted the Elkhound, slowly turning white.

"The Paw Patrol? Didn't they disband after that Stone guy ruined them?" asked the Vizsia, scratching his head.

The sound of police sirens coming closer to their car quickly answered that. _"Attention, chicken nappers! This is Officer Chase of the Paw Patrol! You are ordered to cease your escape attempt from the law and pull over! Don't make this any harder than it is!"_

"Dude, what do we do?!" asked the Elkhound.

"I am _not_ going back to the pound! We floor it!" shouted the Ibizan Hound as he pushed the petal to the metal.

* * *

Chase watched as the car sped away even faster which made him sigh. "Why do they always insist on doing the hard way?" He pushed more power into his car to catch up as Skye followed him from above.

They continued onto the highway where it was thankfully not rush hour. Very few cars were in danger of getting hit by the swerving vehicle, and Chase made sure to keep himself at a wide enough distance. He debated using his vehicle to knock the car off the road, but he didn't want to risk it. The car was already moving back and forth, plus Chickaletta was still in the car and he didn't want to risk hitting her or the other dogs. _As an officer, I must protect all the lives I can. Even criminals._

He just hoped they could end this peaceful with Rocky's trap.

* * *

Ryder arrived just in time so see the other three pups arrive as well. The location they had chosen to meet was at start of the dirt road that lead up to Jake's Mountain when you got off the highway. Taking his helmet off, he walked over to see the pups ready for action. "Okay, Rocky. What's your plan?"

"Well first, I need Rubble to make a big square with his bulldozer. Nothing too deep, just enough to fill what I have for our robbers," replied Rocky, turning to the littlest of them all. "Up for it, Rubble?"

"You kidding? I've been waiting _months_ to use my rig! Let's dig it! Arf! Arf! Awoooo!" shouted Rubble as he rushed to his vehicle. Turning it on, he quickly drove for a perfect spot and began to dig a good square hole.

"Are you digging a big enough hole to trap the car?" asked Marshall, tilting his head.

"No, that could risk injury to the dogs and Chickaletta," replied Rocky as he led Marshall and Ryder to the back of his truck. Opening it, he climbed in and started throwing a few things out of it that the others ducked to avoid, including a surfboard, some broken toy blasters, and a wooden statue of George Washington. "Ah! Got them!"

The two watched as Rocky came out with a gallon of quick glue in his mouth. Spitting out to Ryder, his eyes lit up and his smile widened. "I see. We could fill the entire hole with this glue and have it stop the car in its tracks."

"Yup, I got tons of the stuff and it's the kind of glue that sticks to surfaces really quickly," replied Rocky as he got a pat on the head which made him wag his tail.

"Great idea, Rocky. And I know just the perfect way to put it in," said Ryder, turning to Marshall. "We can use your water cannons to fill the hole up, Marshall."

"I'm fired up!" shouted Marshall.

* * *

One of the first things that Zuma had to learn in his training with Oriel was tracking. For a long time, he never thought to put skills into such things since Chase was always the better tracker. However, now he learned to appreciate such a method as his nose continued to follow the smell of gasoline while blocking out all distractions. His eyes poised for any sign of possible danger nearby, while his ears focused on the distant sounds of chipmunks climbing trees for food.

Tracking also meant walking silently. While Zuma had always been good at keeping out of sight due to his height, it had reached leaps and bounds by the time he finished his training with Oriel. Many animals, and criminals, had died by his jaws without even knowing he was there.

Then he picked up a new sound: laugher. Lowering himself even more, Zuma crawled into the bushes and tiptoed his way past the trees to see the cabins that Nathan spoke about earlier. There were four of them, but the sound was coming out of only one. Next to the cabins were two large trucks, most likely the ones the robbers used to get away from their crime. Like a shadow, Zuma quickly rushed forward and pressed his back against the wall of the nearest cabin and slowly looked up. There were about six of them, all males and dressed in black jackets in jeans with weird haircuts. All of them were laughing and chatting as if this was a party, but this only made Zuma snarl in disgust. _They shot an innocent man and they just laugh about it?!_ Scattered around them were beer bottles, joints, junk food, and dirty clothes. _A clean freak would have a heart attack at the sight of all this,_ thought Zuma with amusement.

He now knew where the thieves were, but where was the cargo they stole from Nathan? Ducking down, Zuma headed over to the nearest of the other three cabins but the dust on the windows made it hard to see through it. He tried the door, but it was locked. "Great, now what?"

Upon hearing a door opening, Zuma ducked behind a nearby drain barrel and peaked his head out. One of the thieves, a young man with a blond mohawk, was walking out in a drunken daze. Barley keeping himself standing, the intoxicated thief walked over to a nearby tree and unzipped his zipper to relieve himself. Slowly creeping up beside him, Zuma waited until he was finished before striking the calves with his front paws, forcing the human to his knees in shock thanks to the pressure. Zuma then jumped up, using all four paws to kick the human in the back of the head hard so that his face ended up smashing into the tree, knocking him out.

After waiting to see if any of his friends heard him, Zuma checked to see if his target had anything on him. After digging through his pockets, he found a set of keys next to a wallet and phone. Grinning, Zuma quickly dragged the body behind one of the locked cabins and then went back to the door to opened it after finding the right key. _Jackpot!_

It was filled with various drinks, food, jewelry, and other goods the gang must have stolen from other people on the road. There were even the supplies that Zuma recognized from Nathan's truck. While he was glad that he managed to find the lost supplies, that still didn't mean anything unless he found a way to get them out of here without the thieves knowing. Even if one of the keys was for the trucks nearby, the moment he activated it, the others would know and descend upon him.

While Zuma was confident he could take on a human one on one or in the dark, a group was a different story. Especially if that group had guns. _Maybe I should check the other cabin to see if there is anything useful._

Taking the keys, Zuma opened the second cabin and walked inside. There was a bunch of tools such as wrenches, screwdrivers, pliers, and more. Most of them had collected dust. The only thing that didn't have dust was the gallons of gasoline. Sniffing them, Zuma could smell the fuel that was still inside. _Guess they use it for the trunks._

He was about to leave when his ears perked up upon hearing some sirens. Realizing it was the police, Zuma jumped onto a nearby tool bench before rubbing the dust off the windows. A police car was entering the premises while in the back, Zuma saw Nathan getting out from the rear seat. Opening the window a bit, he overheard one of the officers asking if this was the place.

"Yeah, the only cabins I know of in a hundred miles. Haven't been back here in a long time," said Nathan as he and the officers approached the one where the thieves were hanging out. After knocking on the door, the thieves all came out one by one, looking annoyed that their good time was interrupted.

"What's the problem officer?" asked one of the gangsters.

"This gentleman here says you boys shot and robbed him blind?" asked one of the officers, glaring at them.

"… well I guess he does look familiar," said one of the others.

"Told ya, officers. Arrest these bastards so I can get my stuff and finish my route," replied Nathan, growling at the punks who just smiled cheekily at him.

"Don't worry. We're gonna make sure this problem goes away," said the other officer as he drew his gun. Zuma's eyes widened, however, as instead of aiming it at the thugs, he aimed it at Nathan who didn't even have a chance to react before he was shot in the head.

Zuma had to grip his mouth to keep himself from screaming in horror and shock as Nathan's body fell to the ground. The officer that shot him put a few more bullets in him before turning to the others. "Since we cleaned your problem up, you should be the ones burying him."

"Fine. Fine. What do you say a little extra for your extra cooperation, sirs?" asked one of the gangsters as he walked over to the third cabinet that Zuma had yet to check out.

Staring at Nathan's body, Zuma couldn't help but close his eyes and let a tear come out. _Why… why does everyone I try to help or meet die?_

The gangster came out a few minutes later with some white stuff packed in a plastic bag. "Here you go. A little extra as thanks."

"Your boss won't mind?" asked one of the officers, taking a sample in his mouth.

"Nah, he's too busy worrying about pleasing Damian Stone back it the city. Guy's been a scared little shit ever since he was forced to work for him again. He's afraid he'll cap his head off," replied one of the gangsters.

 _STONE?!_ Thought Zuma with a horror, but his rage soon over took his thoughts. _They work for Damian Stone. They know about him… and these cops are dirty…_

He was so blinded by his anger that he almost missed one of the punks coming in, but quickly ducked under the tool bench. He watched as one of them took a shovel and walked out. Getting back into his previous position, he watched as three of them grabbed the body and started to move towards the woods to bury it while the cops took off in their police car. Zuma leaned down and nearly punched the window in anger. Nathan was dead and these bastards were going to get away with it unless he did something.

 _What was in that third shed?_ He wondered as he paused to see if any of the gangsters were around. When the coast was clear, he walked out and made his way to the third and final cabin. It was already unlocked, so when Zuma opened it he found himself face to face with beakers, test tubes, bags filled with white powder looking stuff, and other lab equipment. Having been with Chase long enough, Zuma quickly figured out what all this was: drugs.

 _Makes sense. This is a remote location and not too far from the city. Bribe a few officers and you can have a nice way of making this stuff,_ thought Zuma who sniffed the drugs and gagged. _Ugh, terrible._

He walked out and closed the door before retreating behind the third one to think. _They murdered Nathan. They steal from others. They make drugs for a boss who works for Damian Stone. I got one of them knocked out so I can interrogate him later, but the rest need to die…_

He thought back to those gas containers he found and a smirk came to his lips.

* * *

Once the hole was filled with the glue, the four of them quickly drove their vehicles off the road to hide them in the nearby bushes and trees. Taking his Pup Pad out, Ryder quickly called Chase. "We're ready with the trap. You almost near our location?"

" _On our way, Ryder, sir! And so are the thieves!"_ shouted Chase as he showed the car heading towards the turn on the road that lead to the dirt road.

"Thanks, Chase. Okay, pups, let's get ready," replied Ryder as he got on his ATV.

Sure enough, they soon saw the car that the chicken snatchers were driving. It soon reached the hole and tried to continue to drive on, but the glue managed to quickly take control of the tires which caused the car to stop in its tracks.

"Hey! It's not moving!" the Ibizan Hound shouted out loud. He put more power into the gas, but no matter how hard he pressed he couldn't get them free.

"Now!" shouted Ryder as he and his four pups drove out of their hiding spots and surrounded the vehicle. Chase and Skye came up from the rear and helped out, leaving the dogs nowhere to run. "This is the Paw Patrol! Come out with your paws up!"

"Don't come any closer or the chicken gets it!" shouted the Vizsla, but Chickaletta poked him in the eye, making him curse. She then jumped out the window and flapped nearby towards the ground outside of the whole where she started pecking for bugs. "Okay… now we surrender."

* * *

"Oh, Chikaletta! You're safe!" cried out Mayor Goodway as she hugged her pet chicken. She turned to the Paw Patrol who wagged their tails (minus Ryder) and smiled at the mayor. "Thank you so much, Paw Patrol! It's good to know that you're back in business. What happened to those nasty dogs anyway?"

"We dropped them off at the pound before we came here," replied Chase with a smirk. "Those guys will have a few years to think on their actions before they get out."

"I still can't thank you enough for saving my poor little chiky wicky," said Mayor Goodway, snuggling her chicken.

"Well, whenever you're in trouble, just yelp for help!" said Ryder as he and the pups made their way back to their vehicles.

"This was good," replied Rubble, shaking a bit with a wide smile on his face. "I feel so alive again! Paw Patrol is back!"

"Yeah, it's like everything was back the way it used to be," replied Marshall.

"Almost…" said Rocky as he stopped smiling as well as walking. The others paused and stared at him. "I wish Zuma was here."

The others all whimpered and looked down upon hearing his name. "I think… I think we should focus on finding him again," said Skye to everyone's surprise as Rocky stared at her with awe. "Look, today was one of the best days any of us have had in a long time… but this isn't a complete experience unless all seven of us are here. We need Zuma. And Zuma needs us. The H.A.V.O.C. gear is ready and we can prepare for anything this time."

"Yeah," replied Chase, nodding his head. "We failed Zuma last time, but we won't do it again. He's our friend… our family. And we protect our family."

"I won't let him suffer anymore," replied Marshall, walking over to Chase and nuzzling him. "You guys made me see that I wasn't alone in this world after what happened. That I had to grow strong from it. Zuma needs us to help him grow strong, and I want to tell him what happened wasn't his fault."

"Yeah! Paw Patrol always sticks together!" shouted Rubble, jumping in the air. "We'll find Zuma, show him how much we love him, and be a full team once again saving people. And if we run into Damian Stone we'll just kick his butt!"

Rocky felt a few tears fall down his eyes as he joined in by saying, "He need us… and we need him. It's time we come back together and get the real band back together."

Looking at his pups with pride, he knelt and smiled at every one of them. "You're all such good pups. Even in the darkest of days, if we have each other, we can overcome them. Together!" He placed his hand in the middle as one by one each of the members of Paw Patrol placed them on top. "Let's find Zuma and make our family whole again!"

"Yeah!" shouted the pups

* * *

Night time had passed and the drug makers had partied themselves into oblivion. Each of them was spread out all over the cabin, too drunk or high to even get themselves up to do anything. They hadn't even noticed one of their own hadn't been back in hours. One person, however, did get up because of his dry throat and struggled to get on his feet. Moaning at the hangover that was killing him, he made his way to the sink and turned on the water. Tugging at his shirt collar, he wondered why it was so darn hot when Fall was around the corner.

 _Seriously, did we leave the oven on?_ He wondered as he looked around and started getting hotter and hotter to the point where every part of his body was sweating. That's when he noticed it, the flames as they slowly began to eat everything around him. "SHIT! FIRE!"

He ran back to the others, gasping as he saw the fire surrounding the windows and door, spreading everywhere. He kept shouting for the others to wake up and some managed to do so, only to freak out by what they saw. Others were too wasted to even move.

Zuma watched as those gas canisters did their work with the flames. The panic screams and sounds of agony were music to his ears as the fire covered the entire cabin. He glanced at the drug cabin, watching its filth burn along with it. A sense of satisfaction filled him for both destroying a small part of Damian Stone's operation, but also avenging Nathan's death. He turned away from the burning cabin filled with doomed thugs and turned to the tied up and scared thug he left alive previously who was staring at the flames with soaked pants.

Zuma walked up to him and stared at him straight into his soul, his paws over the rag that had been placed in the human's mouth to stop him from speaking. "Now that you're fwiends are on a one-way ticket to hell, let's continue our convewsation. You're going to tell me evewything about Damian Stone and his plans, that you know, or I will pour the remaining gas on your balls and watch them burn. So start talking."

When he removed the gag, the human spilled his guts.


	4. The GoodBad News

_**AN: If you are wondering why I am so late blame my busy life. I apologize that things have been sort of slow on this story. It's not that I don't want to write it, but I have important things in my life that take present which are more important. But here I am with another chapter. I've had some people say that this isn't quite like Zuma's Fear, but that's to be expected. This is different in a way, but I promise you the familiar dark stuff is going to come around.**_

 _ **So, sometime next week I should have my Deviant Art account. I'm going to post the following fanfics on it: Marshall Gone Missing, Everest Gone Missing, Zuma's Fear, From Fear to Courage, Zuma's Courage, Truth or Dare, and Falling For My Best Friend. I also plan on doing the Choose Your Own Adventure Story I promised to do as well as some art. But that's for next week.**_

 _ **Nothing to say on the show at the moment. It's just being its same usual awesome self.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol**_

* * *

" _ **When life knocks you down, try to land on your back. Because if you can look up, you can get up. Let your reason get you back up." Les Brown**_

* * *

Shaw took what had to be his sixth cigarette that day as he watched the firefighters put out the last of the embers from the cottage that caught on fire. It wasn't hard to tell that this was an arson attack with the empty gas cans everywhere, plus the fact that the firemen said they saw the doors and windows boarded up, leaving the poor bastards to die like rats in a cage. What made it even worse was a few of the Dalmatians picked up a scent of a dead body and they soon found it in a shallow grave with a bullet hole in his head. If that didn't make things more screwed up, one of the other cottages held a shipment of drugs and they found the stuff used to make it.

There had been rumors of drug makers in these parts, but none of the officers in the area had suspicion of it. _Looks like I'll have to talk with them,_ thought Shaw as he walked around to the only witness in the area. At first, they thought he was the one who did it, but the fact that he was whimpering on the ground with his pants filled with crap and urine made them think differently. After getting him a fresh set of pants, they had him waiting by the ambulance as he muttered to himself while wrapping a blanket around him. The only thing he asked was that none of the dogs they had get near him.

Shaw nodded to his two officer guards who stepped back and allowed him to see the bloodshot punk. Frankly, Shaw cared little about the guy since he was a drug pushing scumbag, but right now he needed answers. "Alright, I want you to tell me everything that happened here."

"He did this… that pup… that pup… eyes so full of hate… killed them without care… he's… he's a monster…" muttered the punk, shaking with fear.

Shaw raised an eyebrow. "A pup? You mean to tell me a pup did this?" Shaw was starting to wonder if instead of being scared the guy was having a bad high. _Wouldn't be the first time someone took their own drugs and did something stupid._

"Y-yes… he kept me alive… threaten to burn me like the others… if I didn't tell him about Stone…" whispered the man.

That got Shaw's attention faster than a speeding train. "Wait, Damian Stone? You work for him?"

"Work for a guy that works… for him…" muttered the punk, shaking even more. "Wanted to know what I knew… told him what I could… wasn't much… but I gave him my boss… he'll go after him… I'm dead anyway…"

"Who is your boss?" asked Shaw, trying to think of all the drug pushers in Costal City.

"Stephen, man. Stephen is my boss," replied the guy, but he shook his head. "But he ain't going after him either… that tiny pup…"

"Oh? Who else?" asked Shaw.

"He… he's going after the cops that shot that guy… that driver…"

* * *

When the report on the radio about the burning of the drug place hit them, the two officers who were previously at the location didn't speak for hours. The thought that they were that close to being wacked by whoever caused the fire made them want to put the safety off on their pistols. Of course, the really worrying part was that there was a survivor, and if he implemented them in not only accepting bribes and a cut of the dope, but also that murder as well, they were ten ways to fucked.

"… how much do we have in the back?" asked the one in the driver seat, closing his eyes.

"At least two bags, why?" asked his partner.

"We sell the two bags, split the money, take separate plane tickets to any place either of us wants and start a new life," replied the driver, wondering if it was safer to cross into Europe or South America.

"Wait, you want to split up?! What happened to being partners?!" shouted the other cop.

"If we stay together, we're more likely to get identified together," replied the driver, shaking his head. "Besides, it's not like I've taken a bullet for you and you for me. We just did this for the dope and that's it. We split the money, we get out of the state, and we never see each other again."

"Maybe the guy won't rat us out," replied the other cop with a hopeful tone.

"And maybe the Oakland Raiders will win a Superbowl. Get real," replied the driver, taking a sip of the beer he bought not too long ago. He was going to need six more of these by the end of the night. "Go make sure we have enough dope to sell. Be quick about it. I wanna get to the city in two hours."

His partner rolled his eyes before leaving the car. The other one took a few swings of the beer in his hand until he heard his partner scream. Turning around, he saw him being dragged down below the car and out of his sights, but his scream and pleading continued until he saw blood splatter the window.

Without wasting any time, the surviving dirty cop took out his gun and rushed outside, aiming it at the darkness of the forest. He fumbled for his flashlight and gulped. "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit."

He turned it on and found nothing, but this only made him sweat more. Slowly, finger on the trigger, he moved towards the back of the car to check on his partner, aiming at anything that made a single sound. With shaking hands, he aimed down at the end of the car and almost through up. His partner was lying on the ground with blood dripping down between his legs, the pants ripped to shred along with something else, and his throat was torn open. That was enough for him to bolt for the open car seat. However, he felt something sharp bite him in the leg and forced him to land face first into the ground.

The worst landing was possibly given to him as he slowly got up with his nose bleeding and his eyes crossed. He felt worse pain when his head was sandwiched between his car and the door that slammed into his face and neck. The first few blows caused him to scream, followed by massive whimpering as every part of his skull started to fall apart. By the sixteen slam, he was already unconscious. By the twenty-first, his head caved in on itself and was nothing more than pudding.

Zuma stared at the second corpse of Nathan's killers. He spat on the near decapitated head and made his way back into the forest.

* * *

It had been a few days since their first mission as Paw Patrol in such a long time. The gang had a small celebration with a few of their other friends invited. Rocky admitted to himself that he had fun for the first time in months. He danced Pup Pup Boogie, ate some good snacks, and even managed to get Katie to give him that hairdo he liked for the Puptacular contest awhile back. Of course, he had it turned back to his original style afterwards since he thought it would be best for it not to get in the way of work.

He gazed to his friends who were playing tag with one another while he sat down and watched the ocean from his spot near the tree. It was like everything was back to normal… except it was still missing the most important part.

 _Zuma…_ thought Rocky with a soft pain in his heart. He missed having the lab right next to him, cuddled close as they watched the sea together in silence. No words or interruptions. Just the two of them on their own. Whenever this happened, Rocky always felt warm in his chest and just assumed it was nothing. Now, he could see that it was his heart telling him how much it was in love with his best friend.

He ached for him to return to his side. Even after such a happy party and being home with his friends and owner, he still wanted to find him.

 _I wonder where he is…_ thought Rocky, closing his eyes and thinking on the many possible theories there were. He refused to believe Zuma had killed himself. He knew, deep in his heart, that Zuma was alive. Unless he saw the body, he would never believe it. _Maybe he's somewhere happy? Away from Stone or anywhere close to the state. Maybe he's got a new family…_

The thought was much better then thinking he was dead, but at the same time it hurt nonetheless. While Zuma would be happy and safe if he found a new owner and friends, it meant that he gave up his old life again for a new one. One where he didn't have to worry about his past or guilt.

 _If I could just get one look at him… just once… even if I never see him again afterwards... I'll be fine…_ thought Rocky as he leaned back against the tree. _Just once…_

* * *

Meanwhile, Ryder was watching his pups from the top of the Lookout. He was glad they were doing better after the last few months, especially Marshall who was slowly becoming his old self again. He still sometimes came into Ryder's bed, wanting to sleep with him, and having nightmares once and awhile, but it was progress nonetheless. He turned his gaze towards Rocky who was all on his own and sighed. He too remembered how often the Eco Pup and Water Pup sat together watching the ocean. It made him wish he could just have Zuma here just to make everything feel better again.

Ryder, however, wasn't that naïve. He knew that the moment Zuma came back to them, Damian Stone would pick it up and try to ruin their lives again. Ryder would die before letting that monster have his way with his family again. That what H.A.V.O.C. was for, and he would test it on him personally. There was also the backup plan of running away to a new state or even country if it came to that. Ryder had enough money to move him, and his pups, into a new home. It meant leaving Adventure Bay, but Ryder would do anything to keep them safe.

His Pup Pad started to ring as he picked it up and answered it. To his surprise, it was a face he hadn't seen in a long time, but he still looked as serious as ever. "Detective Shaw?"

" _Hello, Ryder. It's been awhile. Heard you and the Paw Patrol are back,"_ replied the detective.

"Yeah, we stopped some dogs from robbing Mayor Goodway and stealing Chickaletta," replied Ryder with a nod.

" _Good to hear."_ Detective Shaw rubbed the back of his neck. _"I don't suppose Zuma was with you when that happened?"_

Frowning, Ryder answered, "No, Zuma hasn't come home. Rocky's been searching for him for the past few months but he's found nothing…"

For a while, Detective Shaw closed his eyes and pinched his nose. _"Ryder… I think Zuma's alive…"_ Ryder's eyes widened as the man continued, _"A few days ago, a drug making den was put on flames. We found the dope, the stuff to make it, and the men behind it. One of them who survived the fire… they claimed that it was caused by a pup… a pup whose description_ _ **exactly**_ _matches Zuma's."_

Ryder gasped. "Are you sure?!"

" _My gut is telling me it's him and I've never once had my gut fail me. It's him, Ryder,"_ replied Detective Shaw.

A great big smile stretched across Ryder's face as a few tears dripped from his cheeks. He was alive. Zuma, his pup, was alive. However, he noticed the frown on Detective Shaw's face and stopped. Something was wrong. "You don't look happy about this, Shaw."

Detective Shaw shook his head and sighed. _"Unfortunately, Zuma's now in big trouble. I've been ordered to arrest this pup, whoever he is."_

"What?! Why?!" shouted Ryder in shock. "For what?!"

" _Murder, assault, and arson."_

Ryder felt as if he got punched in the jaw. "W-what?"

" _Ryder, most of the drug makers were burned_ _ **alive**_ _in that shack. This pup trapped them inside and set the whole damn thing on fire with some gas cans. They suffered greatly from what our coroners are telling us, and the survivor claimed he could hear them screaming until all was silent,"_ replied Shaw. " _If this was self-defense, or if he was still under your command during a mission, this wouldn't be that huge of a problem… but Zuma's did this with the intent to kill them. Not only that, he killed two corrupt officers as well."_

Falling into a nearby bean bag chair, Ryder felt his heart stop beating as Shaw continued the bad news. _"While they were corrupt, Zuma, or whoever this pup is, murdered them in cold blood. Their suit camera show everything. He ripped the throat off one cop after tearing his balls off. The other one… he smashed his head between his seat and the car until it was nothing but a mash potato…"_

"He… he wouldn't do this!" shouted Ryder, standing up. "Zuma's a good pup! He's kind, sweet, and playful… he's…"

" _He's broken, Ryder,"_ answered Detective Shaw, shaking his head. _"After what Stone did to him… I guess it's not a surprise something in him snapped… these guys were connected to someone who works for Stone… and he's going to go after him… while leaving bodies behind."_

Ryder closed his eyes and began to whimper. No matter what the reason now, the fact that Zuma went that far to kill a corrupt cop made it clear that Zuma was willing to kill anyone to get to revenge. _I failed him… I failed him and his family…_

"W-what's going to happen to him?" asked Ryder.

" _He'll be given a trial if found, but… if he's found guilty… they have no choice but to euthanize him,"_ replied Shaw, shaking his head. _"I will do what I can… but I thought you might want to know first, before you tell the pups… I'm sorry."_

Ryder didn't answer, but stood alone in a stunned and sorrowful silence. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of what to do. He couldn't tell the pups this, especially to Rocky. If they knew that Zuma was now a wanted criminal they would be torn apart. They would deny it. Hell, Ryder was denying it right now. Zuma wouldn't kill unless he had no choice, he was too afraid of blood to even do anything. But it had been half a year since then. Maybe Shaw was right and something in Zuma snapped.

 _Now, more than ever, he needs us. He needs his family and the Paw Patrol,_ thought Ryder with a glare. "Shaw, can you get me and my team on the Stone case?"

"… _are you sure about that Ryder? After what happened to your team, especially Marshall?"_ asked Detective Shaw.

"We need to end this now. If Zuma really is heading towards Costal City we need to be there to help him, and hopefully stop him from doing anything worse," replied Ryder. "My team and I have been preparing for this day… get us in the case and I promise we'll stop Damian Stone once and for all."

Detective Shaw was quiet for a bit before he sighed. _"It's going to take a lot of favors, but I'll do it. Just so you know, the FBI is going to be arriving with its best team. They've classified Damian Stone as a Domestic Terrorist now so they'll oversee everything. If things go bad, my neck is on the line."_

"I promise not to get you into too much trouble," smirked Ryder.

" _Ah, don't worry. I only had four years until retirement anyway,"_ replied Detective Shaw before grinning back. He then frowned again. _"What are you going to tell the rest of the pups?"_

Ryder paused for a second before sighing. "I'll tell them the truth… but I'll do it tomorrow… they deserve one last day of peace before we go back into the nightmare."

* * *

There was a little-known fact about Damian Stone that few people really knew: he liked to cook. It wasn't a big secret, it was just something that most didn't bother to learn about the guy. Mostly because they were afraid that he would shoot them if he was annoyed to much; and that did happen once and while (or if he was bored).

Yet, cooking was a hobby the most feared man in Costal City loved doing. Especially, in the private home he held under a fake name. Well, it wasn't his to begin with, it was the house of a family of four and a little doggie that was now currently buried in multiple places in the backyard. Still, finders' keepers, losers' weepers.

Whistling a tune to himself, he grilled the chicken he had cooking in his pan while keeping an eye on the boiling shrimp in a pot. It had been a good day so far. His plans were all going nicely. They were making the deadline for his big event. And he managed to bash three low-lives who sought to steal some merchandise that his men figured he'd want to dish out the pain himself personally. Which he rewarded them by giving them the night off. _Who says I cannot be a good boss to my employees?_ He thought as he flipped the chicken a bit before adding a bit of spice.

That was when a knock on the door interrupted his train of thought. "Come in!" It opened to reveal one of his guards nervously coming forward. "Stephen is here to see you. He has a problem."

"Ugh, can't it wait until tomorrow," whined Damian Stone, rolling his eyes. "Really, does he have to call in the middle of cooking dinner."

"He's her personally actually," replied his guard.

"Oh? Well, that's interesting. Send him in, now I'm curious," replied Damian as he went back to focusing on his meal. A few minutes later, a tall, bald, black man wearing a red jacket, blue pants, and a bandana around his arm strolled in. "Stephen. What's so important that you decided to interrupt me from my little hobby. And the answer better be good." He warned with a threatening tone on the tip of his tongue.

Stephen wiped some sweat from the top of his head before answering. "One of my drug making hideouts was burned. Police confiscated everything and have the only survivor in custody. Also, the two cops we've been bribing are dead too… brutally."

"How brutal?" asked Damian, focusing on his meal, placing a few spices on the chicken while using a spoon to cook the shrimp to make sure they were a nice pink color.

"One got his ball ripped up and his throat eaten out. The other has his head bashed between his car and door to the point where he came up looking like a squished raisin," replied Stephen in disgust.

This made Stone whistle. "Not bad. Not bad at all. So who was it? I assume you know who this guy is so why come to me about it? One lousy drug den isn't enough to stop what we're doing."

"That's the thing… I thought this might get your attention when I learned who it was," replied Stephen with a sigh. "It was a pup, specifically, it was a Chocolate Labrador."

Stone froze in place. For a long time, he stood there in silence. A thousand thoughts went through his head before the finally stopped on an image of a single pup in his life that he had hated and loved at the same time. Slowly turning around, with an emotionless expression, he asked, "A Chocolate Labrador pup, you say?"

"Y-yes," whispered Stephen as he gulped. The sweat he was giving off had doubled as Damian slowly waked forward until he was face to face with the man. Despite Damian being shorter, he gave an aura that made Stephen feel like he was the smallest man in the world. However, that was soon replaced by confusion as Damian then hugged him and started laughing.

"HA! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" cried out Damian before he broke the hug and started jumping in excitement and cheered. "Yes! Yes! Oh if I believed in a god I'd say he just blessed me! Oh, yes! I was getting soooo bored, this makes it a lot more fun!"

"Sir?"

Damian just continued to laugh before he started pacing with his smile growing. "If it's really him… that means little Ryder and his brats will come too… oh, the things I could plan… the games we can play… I had so much fun last time… I wonder? Can I? Oh yes, that might work." He turned to Stephen. "Tell everyone to await hearing orders from me. I have something I want us all to do… a little game is going to be in the works and we're going to play big!"

"Uh, should I go now?" asked Stephen, inching towards the door.

"Sure, unless you want to stay for dinner. In fact, hearing this news makes me want burgers now instead of chicken so I'll just throw this out," said Damian as he took both meals and dumped them into the trash. "Such a waste, but I don't care. He's alive. I thought he killed himself but he's alive and he's coming to kill me! Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

"I… I thought you would be upset, sir?" asked Stephen.

Damian smiled and turned around. "Oh, I'm upset that I didn't really dive Zuma into killing himself like I had planned, but I'm going to take this as a challenge. If he wants to come after me, he can try, but I'll be ready for him. Him and his Paw Patrol friends. This time, however, it's going to end with one of us dead." He turned away and shooed him off. "Now run along. I got plans to make."

Stephen did so without a second thought. Meanwhile, Damian Stone thought about his long-term plan. His big plan that everything was leading up too. It was still a month away before it could be completed, but he could use it for a new game with Zuma and his friends. _Perhaps it's best to welcome them back with a welcoming party._

He reached for his cellphone and called a specific number. "Hello, Boomer? Yeah, it's Stone. How fast can you rig up and explosive to take down a small lighthouse sized tower?"


	5. In Darkest Nights

_**AN: I finally have my DA set up on DeviantArt where you can find some art work I commissioned (not drawn, I cannot draw to save my life) my Marshall Gone Missing story is up there (More fics to come) and my Choose Your Own Adventure Story is up which you can take part in if you have an account.**_

 _ **Alright, let's continue.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol**_

* * *

" _ **Sure, we have to trust God, we have to keep our faith and know who we are in Him,  
but sometimes, we gotta fight back."**_ _ **\- Unknown**_

* * *

Jonathan "Boomer" Sinclair wasn't sure if he was blessed or cursed. He had been born with an amazing talent in anything relate to explosives. He built his first set of fireworks when he was fifteen and became a demolitions expert in the army at the age of nineteen. He screwed it all up by accidentally mistiming a bomb in Iraq and killed three of his fellow soldiers which lead to his discharge, barley escaping murder charges. With no other choice, he turned to crime and offered his services to the highest cost, earning more money, and infamy, on the streets as "Boomer". When he felt he had enough, he got out of the game, married, and now had two kids while living off his "Wall Street" money and stocks.

And then he got a call from Damian Stone.

He had him as a client before, but he always regretted it. Damian's targets were always ones that involved innocent people, rather than just some rival crime gang or police on his tail. The biggest one that still haunted him was the hospital where an eyewitness to a murder Damian did died along with a bunch of others, including a section of the children's ward. It was that one that got Jonathan out of the game for good. He knew he was going to hell, but he at least wanted to live a normal life before it happened.

Unfortunately, when Damian Stone gives you a call requesting an explosive that can take down the HQ of an all pup rescue team, you obeyed. He sat there in his old storage garage, surrounded by equipment he hadn't used in seven years, watching Damian observe the stuffed dolls of the Paw Patrol his kids had. They were fans of the amazing rescue pups, both liking Chase the most, and it hurt Jonathan to know that their heroes were going to be ashes come tomorrow. But if it meant protecting his kids from Damian's wraith it was a small price to pay.

"I didn't know they made toys of those pups. If I had, I would have gotten some for target practice," replied Damian Stone as he put the stuffed animal of Zuma down. "So, the bomb is in all of them?"

"Yes," replied Jonathan, showing the Skye one. "I place the plastic explosives inside the dolls. My plan is to ship them to the Lookout. You can then detonate them all at night."

"Clever," replied Damian Stone. "I'll send some men to do this, plus as back up in case something goes wrong." He then eyed Jonathan. "And you better hope nothing goes wrong."

A cold sweat went down Jonathan's neck. "N-nothing will go wrong. I doubt those pups will survive the explosion or their human owner."

Damian was quiet for a bit before he smiled. "Well, then I guess we have nothing to worry about." He made his way to the exit of the garage. "My men will be here in thirty to pick them up. You'll wait here until the job is done, understood?"

"Y-yeah, sure," replied Jonathan, taking a deep breath when he saw the psychopath leave. He thought about the news headlines about how five pups and one owner were killed in an explosion and the tears his boys would have asking why did this happen. Jonathan would just have to lie and say it was just the way it was.

* * *

It was quiet in the Lookout, but there was a good reason for it. Ryder had told the pups everything that Detective Shaw had told him yesterday. At first, they were all ecstatic that Zuma was alive. Rocky was crying tears of joy even. However, that all became bitter sweet when they were told _**what**_ Zuma had done. None of them had expected the once sweet surfer pup to show such brutality and rage towards those who had committed such crimes. A few of them had wept, knowing that the once kind and loving Zuma they knew was no more. He had fallen down the dark path and Rocky couldn't help but blame himself again.

Rocky knew what it was like to want revenge. He dreamed about killing his owner for a long time for killing his younger brother, even after he was sentenced to jail. It lessened over time, especially when he got closer to the others upon joining the team. That didn't mean it still wasn't there.

 _Now Zuma's fully fallen into darkness,_ thought Rocky as he stared at the ocean once more. He wasn't alone; however, Skye was there with him as support while the others were busy. Rubble was learning from Ryder what "euthanization" was upon asking about it while Chase was comforting Marshall who was still coming to terms with the knowledge they would face Damian Stone again.

The idea of facing that monster scared them all, but they were determined to stop him this time. Dead or Alive.

"Do you think we'll find Zuma before the authorities do?" asked Skye, biting her lip. "I know what he did was wrong… but he doesn't need the needle! He needs help!"

"We have too," replied Rocky, unable to even think of seeing his best friend and crush "go to sleep" as it were. "Ryder says he'll think of something. He's got a lot of favors and contacts after all."

"… how are you doing?" asked Skye, looking at him with pity in her eyes. "Rocky, I know you love him. You can tell me anything."

"… I'm scared," replied Rocky, whimpering. "If he dies because of Stone or from the law… I can't go through that again…" He turned to Skye as well. "I can't even think of any of you dying…"

She nuzzled him gently, letting him cry a bit on her shoulders. "We'll find a way to save Zuma… even if it means going against the law."

"Don't let Chase here you say that," replied Rocky with a small laugh. He then frowned and tilted his head. "You still don't have feelings for him?"

"No," replied Skye with a sigh. "I won't deny he would be a good boyfriend… and maybe down the road I might consider it… but I'm not interested in him yet."

"Why? If you don't mind me asking," replied Rocky. "I mean, I love Zuma, but Chase isn't that bad of a guy."

"… Rocky, were pups," replied Skye, smiling at him sadly. "We maybe rescuers who have done amazing things, but were still kids. I'm not ready to think about such things as love or mates while I'm still so young. There will be plenty of time for it later. Maybe then I'll think about taking Chase as a boyfriend, but with everything that's going on and the fact that were so young makes me think we should enjoy what we have now before we are old enough. I mean, we can't be Paw Patrol forever, right?"

Rocky was about to retort, but he stopped. What were they going to do when they grew up? Would they really be Paw Patrol still or try something new? Chase was always going on about joining the FBI when he got older. Marshall admitted he wanted to raise a family one day. Even Zuma once told him of his dream of being a full-time surfer one day when he was old enough.

 _I guess it can't really go on forever,_ thought Rocky as he stared into the sunset.

* * *

He was home.

After so many years of being away, Zuma had returned to Costal City. The city where he was born and raised. He hadn't step one paw here since his family died at Damian Stone's hands all those years ago. Having secretly hitchhiked on a pickup truck while the owner was taking a leak, Zuma landed on the streets of a city that felt like a stranger yet familiar at the same time. A part of him did want to see how much had changed from his old town, but he knew he had to find a place to sleep before making plans on how to take Stone down.

Hearing sirens, Zuma quickly ducked into an ally and let the cop car pass. Normally, he wouldn't have hidden himself from the police but after what Zuma did to those drug dealers and corrupted cops, he knew that he was a wanted dog. What Zuma had done was murder, plain and simple. It wasn't justice, it was revenge.

Not that it mattered. He wasn't going home. He wasn't even going to survive this and he knew it. One lone pup against Damian Stone's entire operation? It was a one in a million chance.

 _I'm going to die even if I do kill him, but at least I'll take him with me,_ thought Zuma, darkly. He had nothing to live for anyway. He couldn't go back to being Paw Patrol where his friends would either be in constant danger, or hated him now for ruining their lives. His family was dead, buried six feet under and most likely bones by now. All he had was Damian Stone and a grave to fill them both in.

He walked along the curb of the streets, trying to remember where he was when he heard a scream nearby. Unable to ignore it, because of who he was, he rushed over to an ally where three Doberman were surrounding a male white terrier, one of which had him by the throat. Zuma pressed behind a dumpster to listen in on what was going on.

"Look! Dominic, I told you what I knew! It wasn't my fault that your boys got ambushed by the Fresh Dog Crew! I don't get information like the internet here!" shouted the white terrier. "Come on, you don't want to kill me! I've been good! You want to know where the latest shipment of doggie treats is coming? I can get ya the place!"

"I lost four men to those Fresh bastards and one of them was my cousin, Frisk," growled the biggest of them which seemed to be the leader. "The Domination Dogs do not let _debts_ go unpunished."

"Y-yeah, about that. You see there is this theory going around that the worlds governments are controlling people through debt and that their pushing it so the world becomes more dependent on the elite so by focusing on a debt you're really just-"

"Enough! Kill the son of a bitch."

Zuma had heard enough and came out of hiding. "Hey!" They all stared at him. "Let him go."

"Or what? A stupid pup like you is going to do something?" asked the leader with a smirk before turning to his other good. "Roger, teach this mutt a lesson."

The other Doberman nodded before walking towards Zuma with his teeth showing in a sadistic grin. Zuma noticed a broken bottle nearby and then at the Doberman before making his choice. Faster than anyone could see him, Zuma made for the bottle, grabbed it with his teeth, and jumped forwards, swinging it against the older dog's neck. Before the big guy knew it, his throat had been sliced open and he struggled to breath before falling motionless. He was dead before he knew it.

Everyone else gasped and stared at the site, the Doberman holding the Frisk dropped him, but the white terrier was too shocked to run for it. Growling, Dominic turned to his other Doberman and barked at him to kill. Growling, the rage fueled Doberman charged forward as did Zuma. Using his height to his advantage, he slid across the ground, avoiding the bite of the bigger dog that would have torn his head off. Using the bottle still in his mouth he stabbed upward and sliced down, cutting a big tear in his opponent stomach. The wounded Doberman howled as his belly's contents were unleashed, falling on his side as he tried to hold them in while in a pool of his own stomach blood. Zuma had some of that blood on him, but he didn't care, just stared at the final Doberman who was now stepping back a bit.

"W-what the fuck are you!" shouted Dominic, staring at his two down minions. "You psycho?!"

"No, I just don't fear death," replied Zuma in a monotone voice. "You want to join your friends? Or do you want to get the hell out?"

Dominic took the second option and ran like hell. Zuma spat out the bottle, knowing that he was most likely going to see that dog again, but he would be ready.

Suddenly, he was tackled on his side in a friendly hug by the white terrier who looked at him like a long-lost brother. "Thanks a million pal! Wish I wasn't so bloody, but their blood is better than my blood!" He started leading Zuma, against his will out of the ally while ignoring the dying Doberman's cries for help. "Name's Frisk! I know everyone, everybody, and everything going on in Costal City. You new here?"

"I used to live here," replied Zuma.

"Great, welcome back. Things might have changed a bit, but we're still the great city we've always been," replied Frisk as they stopped in front of a corner and the tail wagging terrier turned to Zuma with a smile. "Listen, I owe you buddy. Those guys would have sent me off to the great boneyard in the sky I'm not ready to bite the dust yet. So whatever information you need, it's free from me!"

"… you know everything that's happened, right?" asked Zuma, raising an eyebrow.

"Pretty much," replied Frisk with a grin. "And if I don't I'll find out in a day or two. I got contacts everywhere. The Info Dog they call me."

"… I need to know where Damian Stone is," replied Zuma.

The smile on Frisk's face fell. "Why the hell do you want to know where that guy is?"

"I'm going to kill him," replied Zuma.

There was a brief silence between the two before Frisk started laughing. He laughed so hard that he fell on his back and started kicking the air. Zuma stared at him with no amusement as hysterical terrier continued for a few minutes before he got up and started to wipe tears from his eyes. "Oh, that's a good one kid. That's a good one."

"I'm being serious," replied Zuma, growling. "If you're not going to help me…"

"Woah, woah, easy their bud, easy!" replied Frisk, raising his paws up. "You're talking about killing the most dangerous man in the entire city. Do you know what this guy has done? So much fucking shit that he makes Charles Manson look like Saint Mother Teresa."

"I know what he's done," replied Zuma, lowering his face as he trembled. "He killed my family. Hurt my friends. I want to make him pay."

"… alright," replied Frisk, shrugging. "But listen, I don't know where the guy is… He's got a dozen safe houses and moves every day. Makes sense when you got police and FBI on your tail. There's also the fact that he has a hundred guards in each location, so unless your Batman you're going to end up joining your family."

"Well, what do you suggest?" asked Zuma, growling.

"You gotta make him come out. Take out his operations. Make him angry. Angry people do something stupid. Then you strike," suggested Frisk.

"… do you know a drug dealer by the name of Stephen?" asked Zuma.

"Stephen of The Reds? Yeah, he's on the docks with his crew most of the time, dealing the dope they get and cutting it before sending it out on the streets," replied Frisk with a smile. "You know, that bastard does hate dogs so you'd be doing all us canines a favor."

"Great, I'll be sure to pay a visit tomorrow night," replied Zuma as he heads out.

"Yo, you got a place to stay? I got a shelter that can fit us both," replied Frisk.

"No… there's a place I need to stay tonight," replied Zuma as he walked away.

* * *

The next day, in order to help the pups get their minds off of what was going to happen with Zuma or Damian Stone, Ryder decided to hook up Pup Pup Boogie on the TV. Rocky couldn't remember the last time he played Pup Pup Boogie; he had forgotten how much fun it was. Or how painful of a dancer Marshall was when he did the tail spin move. Groaning, Rocky found Marshall's butt on his face before he pushed him off. "I'm glad to see somethings don't change," replied Rocky as he got up with Marshall's help.

"Sorry, I don't know why I can't get that tail spin move down," replied Marshall, scratching his head.

"It's okay, you got a nice butt anyway," said Rocky with a wink, making Marshall blush. "I'm kidding."

"R-right," replied Marshall, rubbing the back of his head. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!"

Marshall ran off while Rocky sat next to Chase to watch Rubble and Skye face off at the dancing game. He watched for a few minutes before Chase asked him, "So what's the H.A.V.O.C. armor like?"

"You'll see tomorrow when we start training for it," replied Rocky with a prideful smile. Working on that armor and gear was one of the best things he ever accomplished. "But I can say this, we're going to be like a SWAT team when we go out using it."

"Sure hope it's enough," replied Chase, before smiling at Rocky. "But I have faith in you and Ryder, Rocky."

"Thanks, Chase," replied Rocky.

"Hey, guys! Check this out!" shouted Marshall, getting their attention as he pushed forward a box. "This came for us."

Pausing the game, the pups all walked over to it and sniffed it. "Well, it's not food," replied Rubble, poking it. "I wonder what it is?"

"Hey, pups," replied Ryder as he walked over and saw the package. "Who's this for?"

"For all of us!" shouted Marshall, wagging his tail with excitement. "Open it up and see what it is, Ryder!"

Ryder did so and smiled as he pulled out toy dolls of the pups in their gear. "Oh, yeah. I heard about these. Some toy company made dolls of you guys."

"Woah! Neat!" shouted Rocky as he took his and started shaking it around. "It looks just like me."

"Mine too!" said Skye, playing with hers.

"Hey, Little Marshall. I'm Big Marshall! Wanna play!" said Marshall as he placed his doll on his back and started running around, trying to keep it balanced.

Chase stared at the dolls his friends were playing with and then at his own. He sniffed it again. There was something… weird about the smell. Like he smelled something not natural. There was… something… wrong about it. And it gave him a bad feeling deep inside.

* * *

It was night time at last. Zuma, wearing his cloak, had made his way to the docks while grateful for the knowledge of the path from his memories. He quickly found a hole in the fence to climb through and made his way to the lower docks which Frisk told him earlier today was where the shipments were coming in. Jumping on some boxes, he found higher elevation until he could see the entire operation from a single dock with a lit-up cargo hold. There was at least a dozen or so guys moving around, either taking stuff off a small boat or heading into the cargo hold where some people were cutting it up and repackaging it.

If he was the old Zuma, he would have called Ryder or the cops. If this was he old Zuma, he would have found a way to take them all down. But that Zuma was weak. That Zuma was dead. He was new. He was deadly. He was no longer afraid.

 _Are you?_

Zuma looked around, wondering where that voice came from, but he shook his head. "Must be losing it."

Of course, Zuma wasn't stupid. He needed a plan. It was pitch dark except for all the lights from above, shining down on everyone. If he got that out…

Like a shadow he moved to his first target.

* * *

After playing with the doll versions of themselves, the pups had dinner and soon went to bed. Ryder kept the dolls in the Lookout's bottom level while the pups went off to their houses to sleep. All but Chase that is. He didn't know what it was, but something about the dolls made him feel… on edge. There was a smell to them that he knew but couldn't name. It had kept scratching the back of his mind since he first thought of it.

Staring at the moon above, Chase decided to get up and stretch his legs a bit. He began to walk around when he saw something on the bridge connecting their island to the mainland. The moonlight helped show that it was several people on the bride, but it was too far for him to see. "Wish I had my night vision goggles," replied Chase as he began to get a bad feeling again. Rushing over to Rocky's house he nudged him a few times to wake him up. "Rocky. Rocky! Wake up!"

"Uh, Chase? Why are you waking me up so late?" yawned Rocky as he got up and scratched his ear.

"What's going on?!" asked Marshall, getting up.

"Hey, I'm trying to sleep here!" shouted Rubble as he walked over with his sleep mask still on. Skye was right behind him before she pulled it off his head.

"Rocky, do you still have that telescope made from that pipe and several glass shards?" asked Chase.

"Y-yeah? One sec," replied Rocky as he went into his dog house and came out with it in his mouth. "Don't lose it. Reuse it. But why do you want to use it?"

"Follow me," replied Chase as he took the modified telescope and lead the others to the hill. They stopped as Chase took the invention and looked through. While it wasn't perfect, it was enough for Chase to see that he was right. There was a bunch of guys in ski masks on ATV's looking at the Lookout's direction. He quickly told this to the others.

"W-what are they? Thieves?" asked Marshall, shivering.

"Or worse… Stone's men…" replied Rocky, growling.

Chase growled as well. "We need to get, Ryder. Grab whatever equipment from your vehicles and-"

That was when an explosion occurred that rocked the pups off their paws. A series of fireballs erupted from the Lookout, shattering glass as the houses they once held both as home and vehicles were destroyed one by one in a blaze from the explosion. Smoke and fire erupted as the five members of Paw Patrol got up and gasped in horror as their home was burning right in front of them. They stood there frozen as the tower that stood proud and strong began to burn like wood in an oven.

Their home. Their tools. Their memories. Burning to ashes before their very eyes as the orange and red glow reflected off their wide pupils. Then another realization came as something-or rather someone-more precious to them all was reminded in their heads as to who was still inside. In an instant, all five voices cried out with terror they never heard from their vocals.

" _ **RYDER!"**_


	6. HAVOC Unleashed

_**AN: God, I feel terrible for waiting this long to update it. I feel guilty for doing this to you guys, especially since a lot of people like this fic. Between this and my mess up with that last Everest Gone Missing Chapter I feel terrible. Hopefully I can provide you guys with forgiveness by giving you a good chapter.**_

 _ **I'm also trying to get a one shot done, what it is, I won't tell you as I am still in process of deciding what I want for a one shot (and no, I'm not asking for ideas). I feel like I need a really good episode of the show to inspire me again like previous ones have done. They are good, don't get me wrong, but I need something special. Anyway, lots of action in this one. Ryder and Pups first, then Zuma next chapter  
**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol**_

* * *

" _ **You can lay down and die, or you can get up and fight, but that's it - there's no turning back."**_ _ **\- Jon English**_

* * *

If Ryder had been in his room when the explosion happened, he would have been a goner. Thankfully, his bladder had called in the middle of the night for attention. Just as he was exiting the bathroom, a series of explosions rocked the Lookout as fire and broken glass scattered around the area. Ryder was on the top floor, shaking his head and fighting the ringing in his ears as he looked around in horror. The Lookout, all of it, was on fire. The smoke was reaching to his mouth and he quickly ducked down to avoid choking on it.

Since the top was on fire, he assumed the bottom was as well. The elevator was out of commission, and going down the slide was too dangerous. He made for his pole before stopping himself. It was most likely burning hot right now due to the heat. Taking his shirt off, he wrapped it around his hands before sliding down, only this time he pressed a button on the way down. Instead of the garage, where his ATV would be, he slid further underground to a new location he had been building for awhile now.

Landing on the ground, his pup pad activated and he answered the call. "Ryder here!"

"Ryder! Sir! Thank God you're okay!" shouted Chase with tears in his eyes as the video showed him and the pups looking at him with relief. "Where are you?! The Lookout is in flames and I think we got intruders here after us!"

"I'm in the bottom base. Listen, head down here. Rocky knows the way! I think these intruders are here to finish us off if those bombs didn't do it! Be careful! I'll get everything prepared!" shouted Ryder as he ended the call, but just as he did the sound of bullets flying made his heart leap.

 _I have to get the stuff ready!_ Replied Ryder as he went further into the base to switch it to main power and give the pups some back up in the help of a friend.

It was time to test out the H.A.V.O.C. gear.

* * *

When the bullet nearly grazed Chase's head, he quickly barked for the others to stay low and follow him for cover. They quickly separated to make it harder targets for their shooters to hit. The Paw Patrol retreated to the back of the burning Lookout, but Marshall and Rubble quickly alerted them to the shooters coming in on opposite sides.

"What do we do?! We're done for!" shouted Rubble, shaking in fear.

"We stand our ground," whispered Chase, closing his eyes. "Pups, it was an honor being with you."

The five friends nodded as the two groups surrounded them and aimed their machine guns. Closing their eyes, they waited for the end, but suddenly something zoomed in and knocked the first group off their backs at lighting speeds. The second group, alerted that their buddies were under attack, started shooting in the air at the new attacker which made the group wince.

Marshall opened his eyes and tried to get a feel for his chest. "Hey, we're not dead."

"Look!" shouted Skye, opening her eyes. "Robodog!"

" _Arf! Arf!"_ the flying mechanical dog said as it dived down at the second group that was firing at it. It waved and turned in the air before unleashing a smoke cloud that blinded the second group. Turning to his fleshy friends he barked and nodded to the Lookout.

"We got our chance! Let's move!" shouted Chase as he lead the others around the smoked group who were too blinded to see them. Fighting the smoke in their own eyes, the group managed to head over to Ryder's garage which Rocky opened with a bark command.

"This way!" he shouted as he walked over to another control pad the others had never seen before. He pressed his paw on the scanner and a chute appeared from the wall. "In here!"

One by one, the pups all went down the chute with it closing behind them just as the last of them went through.

* * *

By the time the pups all landed, they were in a big dogpile that reminded them of their trips to the elevator. If it wasn't for the fact their home was burning, and they were close to getting shot, it would have been funny. Getting up, they saw they were in some kind of big spacious room, but it was too dark for them to see in it. That's when the lights turned on, blinding them for a bit, before they could see what they had entered. They stood in awe of it.

It was a big underground room in the shape of a circle. A massive computer, bigger than the one in the Lookout, stood on the far side of the room. On each side of the circle were three colored areas, each holding the color for their respective Paw Patrol pup, on opposite sides. For each colored area, there was a giant cylinder object about the size big enough for an average adult human to enter. Each one had their pup logos on it in coordination with their colors. What they contained the group didn't know, but they guess it held their new equipment. There was also a small metal gate fit enough for an SUV for each of them, and it was connected to a colored track. Each of the tracks lead to a bigger track that had a red arrow pointing to a giant metal gate that was sealed shut.

The final interesting aspect of the place was the giant Paw Patrol logo on the top of the ceiling was black and gold instead of red and white.

"What is this place?" asked Chase, looking around.

"This is the H.A.V.O.C. Center," replied Ryder, turning around on the chair in front of the computer. The pups stared at him as he stood up, dressed in new gear. He was wearing a black Kevlar vest with the Paw Patrol logo on the right side of his chest while a Ka-bar knife was pouched on his left side. On the back of the vest was his name as well as the number one. He wore a long sleeved black shirt with red and white streaks on the sides while covering his lower area in black combat jeans and boots complete with a gun holster. The holster was outfitted with finger scanning technology for a safer draw, and the gun it held was classic Walther PPS m2 pistol. Ryder's pup pad had been replaced with a wrist version of it on his left wrist.

The pups quickly stood in attention as Ryder addressed them all. "Pups… before we do this... I want you all to know that I would never ask you to do this if there was no other option. But ever since Damian Stone, we've had to risk our lives… and even take lives to keep us and the citizens of Adventure Bay safe." Marshall whimpered a bit, thinking about those he killed during the forest fire bombing incident months ago, but shook his head to regain focus. "As such, I decided to enact Project H.A.V.O.C. which was an idea from my father that was designed to combat terrorism. I never wanted to put this into practice until you were older… but I guess we have no choice." He turned to the main computer and pressed a button on his wrist device, showing the shooters still trying to take down Robodog.

Their faces soon appeared on the side of the screen, listing their names, blood types, ages, crimes, and other information. "According to the police files I have, these guys are members of Stone's gang. Meaning that he came for us just as I feared."

The entire team growled upon hearing the name of the one human in the world they hated with all their hearts. "How did even get a bomb into the Lookout?" shouted Marshall.

"… the dolls!" shouted Chase, realizing at last what the weird smell was. "That's what I smelled. A bomb in the dolls! They were sent to kill us!"

"You mean I slept next to a bomb?! Oh geez," replied Rubble, shaking his body.

Ryder nodded his head. "By some twist of fate, we're all alive. But it's clear that Damian Stone isn't done with us. Since our regular gear has been destroyed, we have no choice but to use the H.A.V.O.C. gear." He pressed a button at once the cylinder like objects opened, revealing their new gear. "This isn't for recuses, pups. This is equipment meant to kill and defend yourselves with by any means nessecary. Which means you'll be spilling blood…"

The five pups looked at each other nervously. They had spilled a little blood before, but always in self-defense. This would be actual mortal combat.

"I never wanted you to do this at such a young age…" Ryder closed his eyes. "But we can't hold back anymore. Not against Stone. Not this time. However, you feel you aren't ready or don't wish to do this… I understand."

The five looked at each other for a long time. Thinking long and hard about the choice they were about to make. Finally, they each nodded to Chase who, in turn, stood up tall and saluted. "We're ready, Ryder, sir!"

Ryder gave a sad smile and nodded. "Okay, pups. Paw Patrol is on a role!"

"Ruff!" shouted the five as they rushed over to their respective colored areas and got inside the cylinders. They began to close one by one as the pups nervously prepared for their new gear.

As soon it was closed, a small platform raised the pups as a light shined down upon them. The various gears, weapons, and equipment that made up their new arsenal started to get detached from mechanical arms and make their way to their respective locations. The pups gulped but stood still as the heavy equipment was slowly attached to them from head to paw.

* * *

Meanwhile, outside, the robotic dog that had been giving the group so much trouble had finally been taken care off. It was whimpering and short circuiting from the bullet holes it had suffered from before a final shot in the head turned it off for good. "Damn, robots. They'll take over the world one day, I sweat," replied one of the goons as he reloaded his gun.

"Where are the damn dogs," replied another, looking around. "If Stone finds out we screwed up such a simple job, he'll blow our asses to kingdom come."

"Relax, what can a bunch of scared little pups do?" chuckled a third before he heard a whistle in the air. "Hey, do you guys hear th-" he didn't get a chance to finish as his head was cut off from his neck. The other gunmen stared at the headless body before it flopped to the ground, gushing out blood.

"Holy shit!" one cried out, waving his gun around in a panic. "What the heck just ha-AAAAH!" he cried as something sharp slices through is back, forcing him on the ground in bleeding pain. This time the others opened fired on a swift dark pink figure flying on what looked to be a jet pack. When she soared into the moonlight, the others couldn't help but stare at her. It was one of the pups… but different.

Skye had to admit, this new jetpack Ryder gave her moved like a breeze. With the slightest touch, she could change directions at lighting speeds thanks to her new twin radiant jets. The upgraded pup pack could be manipulated to strafe, float, or charge in any direction. Appearance wise, her gear was similar to that of a heavy SWAT like version of her previous suit with the Paw Patrol logo on the right-side of her chest while on the back, in white, was her name and the number four. Her helmet was new as well. It covered he entire face and had a black face visor that acted as a screen inside. She could see various amounts of data being presented to her including who was the enemy, where her friends were, a mini-map, a gauge for fuel, armor capacity, missile count, and dials for altitude and speed. On her front paws were long claws that she could extend back and forth in different sizes while retreating them if need be. While she felt a bit scared, and disgusted, by how sharp these claws were, she remembered that these were the bastards who served a single man who ruined her entire family's life.

They were getting no mercy.

"Ruff! Missile launcher! Fire!" shouted Skye as the sides of her jetpack opened up, revealing two sets of mini-spike missile launchers that fired into the air before sailing for their respective targets.

The humans, once getting out of their collective shock, ran away from the explosions burned the area. Some of them getting their limbs blown off while others were killed instantly. "Where the hell did they get such firepower?!"

"Who cares?! Shoot her!" shouted another one as they opened fire.

Skye was easily able to dodge the fire in the air, although one or two lucky shots hit her. The armor held up, however, as she then called Marshall and Chase. "Okay, boys. Teach them a lesson."

As soon as she did that, a section of the Lookout blew up, blinding one half of the others. Before they could react, they were starting to get gun downed by Gatling gun fire. Coming out of the fire was a heavy armored blue figure with armor much like Skye's only Chase's name was on the back as well as the number two. His pup pack held a mini gun that was quite heavy to use, but it made up for it in raw fire power. Twin ammo belts of 7.62×51mm NATO rounds were connected to it as he continued to fire with extreme prejudice. He tried not to think of the screaming and pleas for mercy as the bullets ripped the flesh of those in front of him. Only to focus on the targeting system and number of bullets he had. If he ran out, he could always engage in close combat with shock paw gauntlets.

A group of the others were trying to run away, but they then spotted something coming from the fire. It walked through it like it was no big deal, as if the heat and flames were nothing. Marshall's fire proof red armor, with his name and the number three on the back, easily made it look like he was coming out of hell, yet the cooling system made it seem like it was autumn inside. Marshall, however, felt like he had come out of hell. For all the months at the hospital, he sat there wishing it was him who died instead of that woman and her baby. Yet here he was alive. He stared at them. The sinister men who tried to kill him and his family. Marshall didn't honestly care about his life. He was ready to die any time, but he would be damned if any of them took his family to their graves. He felt no sorry or regret as he barked and opened his pup pack, revealing a modified flame thrower. With a single snarl, he opened fire, spreading the hot burning flames. He didn't feel any satisfaction killing these men as they died from a burning death, but he felt no remorse either. The only thing he wished was that it was Stone he was burning as well.

Seeing as they were out classed and out gunned, the remaining members of the team headed off to their vehicles only to see them explode in a burning bright flash one by one. Horrified the team noticed a single pup that stood a few feet from the explosion and yet didn't look back. His yellow armor held his name and the number seven on the back, although it was heavier than the others with padding. Rubble had to find the situation ironic. He was a construction pup and now he was a demolition pup with enough explosives to level the mayor's house if he wanted. While a part of him wanted to test out the new grenade launcher on his back, he instead barked a command and waved bye-bye to the remaining thugs. The said thugs were confused until they head some beeping noised and looked down, revealing a set of mines that were glowing.

"Aw, shit," replied one goon as his final words before he exploded.

* * *

One of the thugs managed to bolt right out awhile ago and dive for the water, thankful that he could swim. He dropped his gun and began swimming as fast as he could; kicking up in speeds after hearing the explosions. He didn't know who dropped the bar on the information about these pups but they were no longer playing around like before. He only hoped he could swim to someplace safe and get out of the state before Stone realized he had failed and was still alive.

This was his last thought before a 7.62×51mm NATO round went right through his head. It came from a single mixed breed pup in green armor with his name and the number five on it, who was perched on a tree. On his visor were special targeting programs for distance, wind, velocity, and aim. All to assist his new modified Remington MSR sniper rifle. Barking it away, his visor zipped back into his helmet as he looked at the range he shot the bastard: 1300 Meters.

He looked at his friends and the carnage they had dealt with thanks to the H.A.V.O.C. armor. They could hear sounds of police cars arriving and wanting to know more about what happened. Rocky hoped news crews would come as well. He wanted Stone to see this. He wanted Stone to know that Paw Patrol was coming…

… and blood would be spilled before this war was over.


	7. Zuma Unleashed

_**AN: Yup, here we are with another update of Zuma's Fear. So, yeah, the show's kinda getting a bit slow. Not in terms of quality, it's still a great show, but we're getting less episodes due to large breaks. I think Nick is trying to milk this show slowly due to the overwhelming toy sales. They're seeing this as the next Dora's Explore and they are going to take it all the way.**_

 _ **Kinda makes me wish I can get Canadian TV if only to see the episodes earlier, but I guess Youtube will have to do.**_

 _ **Also, just so people know, I don't have a Wattpad account nor do I plan on getting one. I know a lot of Paw Patrol writers use that instead of Fanfiction . net but I have no plans getting one.**_

 _ **Anyway, Zuma killing bad guys. Enjoy**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol**_

* * *

 _ **"I realize now that it will take time. That the road is long and shrouded in darkness. It is a road that will not always take me where I wish to go, but I will travel down it nonetheless." -Connor Kenway**_

* * *

Being a guard was not always the most exciting job to have. You had to stay in a single place for hours, outside in often bad weather, holding a heavy gun, and often having nobody to talk to if you weren't with a partner. The most excitement you could get was getting an order to check something out that turned out to be a stray cat or a homeless bum looking to sleep somewhere. One of the said guards was currently going to check out why one of the patrolmen hadn't answered his radio.

"God, this place is cold. Why did we have to work near a pier," he complained while lighting a cigarette in his mouth while holding his machine gun in the other. Letting out a few puffs, he turned towards the large shipping crates that scattered around the place to look for his fellow guard. "Oi, Jeff. Where the fuck are you?"

Getting no response, he continued to look around until he turned the corner and nearly tripped over something. Looking down, he froze as the cigarette fell from his mouth. The guard he had been looking for was lying on the ground, throat torn open, and staring into the sky with his lifeless eyes open. Before he could respond, the guard that found the said body felt something slam into his head, forcing him down to the pavement face first. He struggled to get up and call for help but the blows kept coming. A few hits and he was unconscious. A few more and his brains were poking out of his skull.

Zuma tossed away the blood pipe he had used and refocused himself on the cargo hold where the drugs were being dealt. He needed to find a way to get the lights out and take out the place without getting himself killed. There were already a great number of guards around the area and all of them armed to the teeth. Killing them silently one by one wouldn't work for long until they realized they were getting picked off one by one. _I have to deal a heavy blow in one shot before I can take them down one at a time,_ he thought. _Damnit, this is why Ryder was the one behind all the planning._

Shaking his head, he muttered, "Calm down, Zuma. You can do this. Let's get to the hold at least." He dragged the two bodies someplace where they wouldn't be found before taking to the shadows with his cloak once again.

* * *

It didn't take him long to reach the cargo hold via the shadows as he hugged his back to a crate and poked his head out. There were three long tables, all filled with drugs, that were being chopped, powdered, and packaged into bags before ending up in a large box filled with hundreds of them. Zuma growled upon seeing such filth, and tried to see if he could spot Stephen according to Frisk's description of him: a half Latino half Caucasian bald man with a red bandana with a diamond symbol on top. Zuma spotted him on a balcony looking over everything from a rundown office window.

 _So how do I get all of them?_ Thought Zuma, wishing he had some gear on him. _Moment I charge in I'm dead. The moment I get caught I'm dead. I must even the odds…_

He ducked away to see what he could around the area. On the other side was a generator with some tools lying around, such as wire cutters, a blow torch, a wrench and so forth. _Hmm, this might work…_

He then looked around spotting a few cars, more tall metal shipping containers lined up on top of each other, including a set that was being held by a shipping crane not to far from the area. _That works even better._

Zuma grinned as a plan soon came together.

* * *

Stephan was looking at the locations for this week's drug drop when everything went dark in the entire area. His worker gave shocks of surprise before angry asking who was it that turned the lights out. "Oh, for crying out loud. I thought Hoffman fixed the generator," replied Stephan, who got off his seat and stomped out of his office. His workers and guards were bumping into each other like a bunch of headless chickens, cursing and feeling around for the area. "Oi! Assholes! Stop moving around or else you're going to knock over the goods! Stay put! And somebody get Hoffman to fix the generator proper this time!"

He rubbed his forehead, hoping this wouldn't hinder the work process for long. Damian Stone made it clear that the drugs were to be pushed none stop to these locations, most of which were to be handed to some Arab and Russian guys he never met. His thoughts were interrupted when he smelled… something burning in the air? Not fire smoke, thankfully, but just something burned. It made him want to take a cigarette. He putted out a smoke and was about to lite it when match when out from… water? He felt at first a few drizzles before it started pouring like crazy from above. "Shit! Who turned on the sprinklers!" He gazed down, narrowing his eyes to see the damage. Already the water was wasting away the cubes of cocaine they still hadn't cut up yet. "Protect the drugs, man! Seal the boxes! Don't let them get ruined!"

His men went to work, but in the darkness the only bumped into each other or slipped from the already wet floor. Stephen wondered what the hell caused this until he remembered the smell of the burning air. Cursing, he ran down the walkway and rushed down the stairs until he was at the bottom. Sniffing the air, he still smelled it and hurried over to the far-right corner of the area where he found the source coming from on top of a ladder. He went up the ladder and found what he was looking for. A blowtorch, set to automatic, flowing right above one of the fire detectors they set up in the place on the wall.

"Who the hell…" he muttered as he turned it off and climbed on down. That's when he felt his foot step on something long and thin. He looked down, taking out his phone and turning on the light to see what it was. His eyes widened. It was a cut wire. There was a whole bunch of them. Right on the water that spread across the entire floor. He looked up, seeing them hooked up to a fuse box that was currently off.

"Hey, Hoffman says the power is about to come back on!" cried a voice

"Oh, shit!" shouted Stephen as he quick jumped onto one of the boxes just as the lights turned on.

At that moment, thousands of volts of electricity erupted from the wires and traveled down the wet floor. Everyone in the building, be it guard or drug cutter, screamed in pain as their bodies shook with convulsions. Their cries of agony were only heard for a minute before they silently fell to the floor, twitching yet not breathing.

"Holy crap!" shouted Stephen, with his heart to his chest. Thankfully, the crate he was on was made of wood and the electricity wasn't getting to him. Taking out his phone, he quickly called Hoffman. Once he answered, Stephen yelled, "Turn it off! Turn the goddamn power off!"

Thankfully, Hoffman didn't ask questions and did so as the entire area went dark. Stephen waited a few minutes for the water to uncharge itself before rushing as fast as he could towards the exit gate. Once far enough, he caught his breath as some of the guards rushed over, asking what the fuck happened. "Shut up! Let me breathe!" He took a few more gasps before calming himself. "We got a rat! Somebody turned the power off and set the place up so that it shocked everyone inside! Check every area and-"

"Boss! Look!"

He turned around and saw nothing, but when he looked up he gasped. The crane that had been holding the containers not to far from where they were working was moving. It positioned itself right above the cargo hold until it dropped its containers.

"Down!" shouted Stephen, diving for the pavement.

The heavy containers smashed into the cargo hold's roof, shattering it as the force of the weight crushed it and sent parts of the area scattering into the air. The men tried to scatter or duck, but found themselves knocked out or crushed by the scattering debris. Stephen opened his eyes only to see one of the guards get their head smashed to a pulp from a lose I-beam.

A dust cloud, combined with the powdered drugs, soon overtook the area, as Stephen slowly got up along with a few others who could barely tell what was in front of them. Coughing, Stephen tried to give out orders, but the dust prevented him from speaking right. Suddenly, one of the guards yelled as he was taken down by something small and fast, his silhouette sinking into the dust as he continued to scream before it was silenced. The others put their weapons upon, trying to aim, but then another was taken.

This time they fired, but the dust made it harder to see. One by one, Stephen saw his guards get taken down by some kind of beast before he was the only one left.

Determined not to fall pray to this thing, he ran like hell through the dust cloud, only to find himself tripped and fall face first. Holding his bleeding nose, a paw pressed itself against the back of his head to slam it down again. "I want you to send a message to your boss…"

Stephen froze upon hearing such a hate filled voice and only nodded his head. "Tell him, that I am a sin of his past come to take him to hell with me."

"O-okay…"

And with that the paw was gone.

Stephen held his breath until he was sure he could move again. He slowly looked over the damage that a single dog of all things caused. The dust and drugs finally faded as he saw all his guard either crushed, knocked out, or with their faces torn off or throat eaten out.

Stephen let out a bit of his lunch before slowly reaching for his cellphone to call for help.

* * *

Up above on a container, Zuma removed his hood and cloaked that covered his head and mouth. He saw the destruction he had rained down upon one of Stone's work areas and grinned. "This went better then I thought."

Of course, this was just one victory. One stage to messing up Stone's work. _If I piss him off enough, he'll come for me. That's when I'll get him._

What bothered Zuma was that he had taken lives again. The largest amount of lives he had ever taken. He looked at his blood-soaked paw and realized he felt nothing. _Guess I am a monster now…_

With one last look, he turned away and disappeared into the night.


	8. Stone's Responce

_**AN: Another day, another update. We're getting things fired up here and we got a lot more to go. A few… distasteful and horrible things happen in this chapter. Just as a warning. It's Damian Stone, what else do I have to say. Hope you enjoy**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol**_

* * *

 _ **"When going out looking for revenge, dig two graves." -Chinese Proverb**_

* * *

Stephen had to admit he lead a crappy life leading up to this moment. Orphaned a young age from gang violence. Joined gang violence. Spending his life on the lam, shooting up, killing people, bangin' hoes, and nothing else but surviving every day under the cruel world. Stephen had no illusions that he was going to die at a young age, but the one thing he feared was dying under the hands of Damian Stone. There was death, and then there was Damian. The man had a hundred ways to kill you in ways you couldn't even expect. He once saw the man kill a man with a fucking pencil before having their intestines baked into a cake to be delivered towards their child to eat.

He was messed up.

With his place hit by that mysterious pup that killed all his men like he was a ninja. Stephen had no choice but to relay his message to Damian. All his boss said was to come. So here he was, on a chain in the middle of an old YMCA building with four armed guards watching him. Stephen had already prayed every prayer he knew and now was just sitting waiting for the worst. He even heard a few of the guards whispering how long it was going to take him to die.

The door to the room opened and Stephen stood up straight as a figure walked in. He was dress in jeans with a black t-shit this time, flipping his infamous knife around in his fingers. Whistling, Damian walked right in and kept his eyes on Stephen the entire time as he began to circle him. He just continues to damn whistle and pace. Whistle and pace.

It went on like this for nearly ten minutes before Damian stopped in front of Stephen and lowered himself low enough to look at him in the eyes. "Stephen. Do you know how much money's worth of drugs those were?"

"… yes."

"And you're only job was to protect that place… and make sure the drugs flowed."

"Yes."

"And you couldn't do a simple job as that? You had to let someone come in and own your punk ass like you were their bitch?" He raised an eyebrow and placed one hand on his shoulder. "Now, I don't care about the dead men. Personally, I wish you joined them, so we wouldn't have this conversation. But now I gotta do the dirty work and, while I personally enjoy it, I've got lie ten other things to do today. However, the drugs were important for my big plan. The plan that's gonna make us famous. That's unforgivable. So why don't you just tell me who was it that did it, and then I'll cut your throat before going after them, okay?"

Stephen sighed and lowered his head. "It was a pup."

There was silence.

"A what?"

"A pup. Based on the size and paw hand, it had to be one. I think… maybe it was Zuma? I couldn't get a good look at him, but he did want me to give a message to you," replied Stephen as he looked at a curious Damian in the eyes. "He says he's a sin of the past and he's going to take you to hell with him."

Damian just stared at him. He stared for a long time as the two just silently looked at each other. And then Damian smiled. He giggled. Then laughed. He laughed so loud and so sudden that even his guards were taken by surprise. Everyone stared at the laughing maniac as he continued to scream like he was on ecstasy, pounding the floor with his feet in excitement as he jumped up and down a bit. "Yes! Oh, my goodness! Yes! He's alive! Oh, that sweet innocent cock sucking puppy really is alive! I wasn't completely sure last time, but now?!" He giggled a bit more before glancing at a stunned Stephen. "Oh, you have made my day. Like seriously made my day. This makes everything all the sweeter in the long run."

He nodded to the door with a smile on his face. "Go on. Get out of here."

"W-what?"

"I'm in a good mood and you put me in a good mood! I was gonna painfully kill you, but now I wanna kiss you. Go ahead and leave, take the day off! Oh better yet, take the week off! This is gonna be great!" shouted Damian as he began to dance around and sing. "Zuma is alive and well! Alive and well! Alive and well! Zuma is alive and well! Time to make his life a hell!" He stared at Stephen who was still sitting there. "What are you waiting for? Go already!"

Not replying, Stephen slapped himself awake before running out the door. Watching him leave, Damian sighed in relief. "Ahhhh, I love it when good news comes together. Seriously, this is just my perfect day. I mean I was in a rage that Ryder and his doggies lived with some strange robot gear that would make Micheal Bay relief himself, but this is?! This makes up my day!"

"Sir, I thought you hated the pup. Why are you glad he's alive?" asked one of his guard.

"Because," said Damian, looking at him with a smirk. "This means I can continue to hurt him some more. Maybe even finally kill him personally. Of course, it seems like he's developed a bit of a kill streak, which only makes this even more interesting. Usually, when I break people they just kill themselves or become a mess, but Zuma? He's gotten a killer instinct. I like it."

He stroked his chin. "This makes the game all more fun with him on the board."

The door opened again and this time came in Jonathan "Boomer" Sinclair. "You wanted to see me, DAAGUH!" cried out Boomer as he fell to the floor after getting a knee to his stomach. Damian's foot pressed against his head, making it squish between it and the concrete floor.

"Sorry, Boomer. See, I was in a good mood, but seeing your ugly face reminded me that your bombs failed to kill one single member of the Paw Patrol," replied Damian, calmly applying more pressure to his feet while looking at his nails in an emotionless expression. "Now I would also blame my guys, but again. They're dead. So, you'll have to do for now." With one final stomp there was a snap of the neck and the struggling body went limp. "I guess he went out with a whimper instead of a bang. Did we send our sympathies gift to the family?"

"It's already arrived."

"Good. I hope it bring them fond memories of dear old dad. Now go get a shovel, I wanna give Zuma a welcome home gift."

* * *

"Woah, check out these Paw Patrol dolls!" shouted a young boy who picked up a Chase looking doll. "I wonder who gave them to us?"

"Who cares! I wanted a Skye and Marshall doll for awhile now!" shouted another young boy as he pretended Skye was carrying Marshall on her back.

Their mother, a young beautiful woman, looked at box and said it came from her husband's work place. _Maybe a gift for the boys?_

"Hey, Mom. Mind if we take these upstairs and play with them!" shouted one of the boys as he grabbed the box.

"Of course, just be down in an hour for lunch," replied their mother as the boys cheered before rushing off. "I wonder where Johnathan is anyway. He said he would just be gone for an hour." She then noticed that the boys dropped one of the dolls. A Zuma doll if she remembered correctly.

Picking it up, she went to the stairs and shouted, "Boys?! You forg-"

She didn't get a chance to finish as a second later the doll in her hand explode, incinerating her. The ones upstairs also went off as well, giving her children the same fate. The explosions rocked the house and even the ones nearby as windows were shattered, furniture was broken up and set aflame, and the gas to the house went off in a huge boom. Everything inside the house was destroyed as the fires spread outside while onlookers quickly called 911.

* * *

Detective Shaw remembered the old Punisher comics he used to read as a kid. In fact, he would honestly say that seeing the vigilante is what inspired Shaw to become a police officer in the first place. He wouldn't say that he agreed with taking the law into your own hands, but sometimes it takes breaking the law to protect the law and Shaw had done it more times then his boss would have liked. Shaw had no love for criminals of any kind be they drug dealers, murders, rapists, illegal aliens, cultists, terrorist, rioters, or even scammers getting savings from naïve fools. You did something bad, you hurt people, you break the law without a justifiable cause, you were a criminal. None of this "social justice" bullshit he kept hearing from politicians, activists, and spoiled rich brats who focused more on what people said on some twitter account that hurt people's feeling then what people did on the streets. Didn't matter who they were or what they believed or where they came from. You broke the law you were a criminal and Shaw had no sorrow for them.

However, even he had to admit that he felt a bit sorry for what happened to Stephen's boys out here on the docks. While it was known that Stephen had been using docks for drugs, they always seemed to be tipped off about a raid and shipped the stuff somewhere else to do business. Shaw suspected there was a leak, or several, who were giving info to not just Stephen, but also to his boss Damian Stone.

In less then a few months, Damian Stone had the entire city back in his pocket like hadn't even left. It made Shaw's blood boil that he couldn't get this man after all the harm he's done, but it looked like somebody decided to take action.

Or some pup.

Detective Shaw wouldn't be surprised if Zuma was the one behind this since their witness in the last drug place to get a bust like this described Zuma in good detail. Shaw, however, had used what clout he had to put doubt in his superior's mind that a pup could do so much damage. Even one as skill as Zuma who was a life saver in all honestly. Ryder said he would come up with a plan to protect Zuma, but if this was Zuma who was doing this then it meant he had cracked.

Murder was still murder, even if they were scum. Zuma had done enough to earn him a death sentence of the courts found him guilty. And usually someone who goes on a rampage like this doesn't stop until the one they want is dead… or they are.

"Had to have been at least a few guys who did this," replied one officer who watched the body bags get taken away.

"Maybe," replied Shaw as he took a sigh. "There is a war brewing and we're only just seeing the beginnings of it."

"Chief said he's bringing in a top FBI group to handle all this," replied the officer, shaking his head. "Not sure what makes a difference since the last time they had them helping out they didn't get Stone out in Adventure Bay."

"Yeah, well this group is different," replied another officer, smirking as she walked over. "I hear they got this dog, German Shepperd, who's a crack ace agent. Never lost a case and is a hero back in his home city. He's good. Damn good."

"How good?" asked Shaw.

"Stopped a terrorist cell in Minnesota good."

Shaw whistled as he looked around the destruction of the area. "That is good."

"But isn't Paw Patrol also coming too? After what happened to them last night, I'm surprised they even want to come down here after nearly getting killed," replied the first officer.

"They're a stronger group then you realized," replied Shaw as he thought about what happened at The Lookout. He was more then relieved to learn that Ryder and his pups were alive, but also the fact that they had some serious hardware to protect themselves. Ryder called it the H.A.V.O.C. armor, and it looked like it could dish out its name sake. Ryder had already told Shaw ahead of time that he and his team were coming to Costal City as soon as preparations were made.

At first his boss was against it, but he was quickly shot down when Ryder revealed he had the US government's sponsorship provided he would share details of the newest armor to them after their case was complete. _If there is one thing to always move the asses of the brass its big guns._

"Guys! Guys!" shouted a voice that alerted the three of a CSI employee running to them with his phone out. "Get to Youtube and check out the news channel!"

Instantly, Shaw got his phone out and did so only to have his eyes widen and curse upon seeing the reporter proclaim they had just be delivered a digital video from none other then Damian Stone himself with a message towards "His Best Doggie Friend In The Whole World" and threatened that if they didn't show it he would use a bomb in an already packed area.

Others around him quickly got their phones out too or check out the phones on others as the video began to play.

* * *

With the Lookout all but destroyed, the Paw Patrol decided to rest and prepare for the trip to Costal City in their new underground base, The H.A.V.O.C. Center. They were going over the schematics of the city when Katie contacted Ryder and told him that Damian had sent a threat to the news station in Costal City to play a video he sent or else. Using their super computer, they watched as the anchorwomen warned viewers of the content they were going to see before Damian Stone appeared on the screen.

The instant they saw his face, some of the pups like Marshall whimpered in fear, while others such as Rocky growled upon seeing the one who ruined their lives months ago. It was then he began to speak. _"Are we good? Great,"_ he clapped his hands and smiled. _"Zuma! Buddy old pal! I thought you were dead, but it looks like I didn't teach you your lesson the first time in regards to fucking with me. Some pups just don't know when to be properly trained I guess." He shook his head but then smiled, showing those golden teeth in his sick grin. "But I must admit, I am impressed. I see you've finally put on your big boy pants regarding that incident at the docks. You did end up costing me a fair share of drugs and men, but, eh, water under the bridge. Just knowing the fact I've made you a killer is enough for me."_

He then began to walk to the left as the camera followed him. During which, they were passing by tombstones which made the pups, and Ryder, wonder why he was in a cemetery. _"Now seeing as you are back in town, I thought it was proper that I would give you a special 'welcome back' gift seeing as you haven't been here since I killed your family and nearly killed you. Have you visited them by the way? We've been having the most interesting of conversations, although they don't really talk much."_

Rocky's eyes widened in horror. "No… he wouldn't… he can't…"

The camera turned over to three specific graves that had been dug out. Their coffins removed and opened as the skeleton remains of a man, a woman, and a female pup laid out together. Their remains having rotted since their burial with barely any skin or muscles remaining. Rubble and Skye quickly turned away in disgust while everyone else just stared in horror and disbelief.

"…how could he?" whispered Ryder, covering his mouth.

* * *

"That fucking sick son of a…" Shaw wanted to curse more, but he felt so enraged he couldn't put it into words. Of all the sick thing Damian Stone had done, this had to be one of the worst. _If this is playing everywhere in the city and Zuma sees this…_

Damian Stone then began to talk again. "Now, about that gift. I wanted to give something that shows just how much you mean to me…" Turning his back just enough from the camera, a small sound of a zipper was heard as Damian began to whistle… while a stream of yellow liquid came out between his legs and onto the skeleton remains right next to him.

* * *

Everywhere around Costal City, people were horrified by what they saw. Many forced their kids to look away or shut the TV and phones off in disgust. Others were too stunned to do anything as they watched a man piss on three dead corpses, mostly likely the family of this Zuma character. Crowds of people watched in the center square upon on the big screen tv as the once busy corner stood in silent stupefaction over what they were seeing.

One single pup, hidden among the crowd, silently began to shake with rage as his eyes, which held more hatred then any living being in the world could testify to seeing, began to slip tears.

When the yellow stream ended, Damian Stone zipped up his zipper and turned around, smiling. _"Ah, that was refreshing. So yeah, like you dogs do with your piss, I just claimed my territory."_ He leaned in closer. _"You're my bitch, Zuma. You, your friends, this city? It's all mine. I own it, even your family's graves. I'll do what I want with it. And I'll fucking enjoy it. You and everyone in this dump will have me in your heads every day for the rest of your life. You will never be rid of me. I'll always be there. Deep inside. Haunting you. Whispering in you. And you'll always be afraid of me."_

He leaned back and smiled. _"So, come get me you son of a bitch. Because I'm already excited just waiting to kill you."_

And with that the video ended.


	9. Arriving At Costal City

_**AN: So here we are back in the saddle again. I reminded you all that Stone is an evil son of a bitch, right? Because Stone's an evil son of a bitch. Yeah, that scene was inspired by a scene in one of the Punisher comics. I loved it because of how pissed Frank got when the bad guy did that to his family and then just fucked everything up for everybody until they got buried.**_

 _ **Will Zuma go on that kind of a rampage? Well, you'll see.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol**_

* * *

 _ **"**_ _ **Anybody can become angry - that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way - that is not within everybody's power and is not easy.**_ _ **" -Aristotle**_

* * *

He hated patrol. There was nothing to do when you were ordered to just stand around in one place and make sure there was no trouble on your turf. Most of the time you didn't even fire a gun. About a year ago, you could get the chance to be ambushed and be forced to pop a few gangsters. Thanks to every gang in the city fearing one single man, they were all but silent and behaving. Sometimes the police would cross by, but they would just ignore them. Either out of fear or laziness depended on the situation. Ten Pin didn't like to admit it, but that psycho of a man named Damian Stone could put the fear in the army if he had his way.

The sick shit he pulled on those bodies three days ago was enough proof of that. It was already spreading across social media with many calling Stone a sick bastard. Not that he cared, the guy seemed to just enjoy the attention. Personally, Ten Pin didn't like him. It was one thing to be solider on the streets, it was another thing to be a full on mad man.

Still, he liked living more than opening his mouth.

"Will you stop playing on that damn phone, man? I don't wanna keep on the lookout all by myself," he said, glaring at his fellow crew member who was busy on his android. "Seriously, if I gotta do this boring shit you at least do it with me."

"Relax, man," he replied, shaking his head. "Nothing's gonna happen."

"Right, so the last sixteen guys killed yesterday was nothing? Or the twenty before that?" Ten Pin argued, shaking his head. "Man, if the rumors are right and this Zuma dog is out for blood? I don't wanna be at the bad end of his fangs you know?"

"Come on, you really think one pup is doing all that? Just cause Stone killed his family and desecrated their bodies on live TV?" his partner asked.

"What would you if your old man and ma ended up getting piss all over their bony faces?"

"I'd be more upset I didn't do it myself."

Ten Pin rolled his eye before checking his watch. "Yo, I gotta call Evan and his crew. Stay alert man."

"Whatever."

Walking down the street, Ten Pen made his way to the phone booth on the other end where he put in a corner and dialed. Due to the risk of getting traced on their cells, everyone was ordered to use the payphones unless it was an emergency. He waited for someone to pick up on the other end, but nothing came except a voice message recorder. Cursing, he slammed the phone back in its handle before stepping out of the booth. Lighting up a smoke, he puffed before looking up at the cloudy night sky. _Maybe I should get out of town. Word is the Feds are coming to personally deal with Stone. Do I really want to get life with that guy? Maybe I should head to Foggy Bottom and lay low as a cashier or something with my cousin._

He took a few more puffs before stomping the cigarette in the ground and making his way to the corner where he found his partner, head down, still staring at his phone. Grumbling, he walked over and stood in front of him. "Dude, I told you to lay off the phone." When he didn't listen, Ten Pen cursed and grabbed his head. "Listen to me you son of aaaaaaAAAAAA!" He stood there, still screaming, upon seeing the torn up and bleeding neck of his partner.

Before he could react, something snapped the back of his legs and forced him down. He tried to reach for his gun, but a paw to the hand knocked it away and he felt his fingers get ripped off by a bite. Screaming, he pushed his attacker away and started running down the ally, holding on to his bleeding hand. He didn't get far as the cloaked creature tackled him from behind and sank his jaws into his neck.

No matter how much Ten Pen yelled and begged for mercy, he didn't stop.

* * *

Rocky watched as the trees passed by them in his spot on the Paw Patroller. After finally getting everything packed, the Paw Patrol was ready to head to Costal City. It was a mission that all of them had been waiting for months. First objective was to find Zuma, and second objective was to stop Damian Stone once and for all.

With their new H.A.V.O.C. armor and gear, they were more then ready to handle whatever the gangs of the city could throw at them. Detective Shaw would also be there to help, not to mention the FBI was sending their top unit to help with the situation. Still, Rocky didn't have much hope it would make too much of a difference. Last time Stone was active, an entire multi-task force team had assembled, and they still couldn't take him out.

Still, it didn't matter who was their back up or not. All that Rocky wanted was to find his love and bring him home.

"… _and in other news, another strike against the gangs last night as the mysterious vigilante killed ten known gang members. Witness say they saw a cloaked canine figure that many suspect is former Paw Patrol member Zuma. Zuma, whose parents and sister was killed by Damian Stone and his gang, was suspected dead for months until recently. Not to long ago, the remains of his family were desecrated in what is being called the most insidious act on the internet. The Chief of Police has issues an arrest warrant for Zuma, stating that vigilantism will not be-"_ Chase shut the TV off as the others who were watching looked at him.

"What do we do?" asked Chase.

"What do you mean?" asked Rocky.

"Rocky, if Zuma is really killing all these gangsters then he's committing murder. Even if they are bad guys, he's doing it without proper authority and in ways that are just plain brutal. In every aspect, he's now a criminal. So, what do we do?" asked Chase.

"Does it matter? Chase, you know what he's been through, he needs help," replied Marshall.

"Can he even be helped at this point? Zuma… he never used to do something like… this," replied Rubble, shaking his head.

Rocky got off his spot and walked forward. "It doesn't matter what his state of mind is or if he is a criminal or not. He's our friend and a part of our family. We are going to find him and protect him, even if we have to drag him by his tail to do so."

"We all want that, Rocky," replied Chase, sighing. "But the law doesn't. At worse, they'll want to jail him… or…."

He didn't say it, but everyone knew what he meant. It was still legal in to euthanized dogs either as a punishment or an act of mercy killing. Rocky didn't care. He was going to save Zuma, even if he had to fight the entire law itself to save him. _Nothing will separate us again. Nothing._

" _Hey, guys,"_ replied Ryder on their pup tags. _"Were getting near the city now."_

The pups all raced to the window and opened it to get a look of Costal City. Rocky stared at the high skyscrapers and sighed. "We're coming, Zuma."

* * *

"Geez, at least learn to clean up your paws after your little murder runs," cried out Frisk as the white terrier rubbed his floor with a rag. His home wasn't much, but it was large enough shed of an old school yard that kept him warm and safe over the years. It was filled with all kinds of junk people tended to throw away in the trash, but the one thing he was starting to regret bringing in was the pup that saved his life.

He didn't need to ask to find out who he was. Zuma's tale was one spread around the city even before Stone broke out. It bothered Frisk to know he was sheltering the highest target on Damian Stone's shit list, but he owed the pup and he didn't want to get on his bad side. So far, he didn't ask for much except for some basic information and food; both of which he had plenty of.

"Sowwy, it's been awhile since I lived in a place that wasn't indoors," replied Zuma as he sat down on an old futon. He could barely remember the inside of the Lookout. It all seemed like such a distant dream of a life so long ago.

"Eh, its not like this is Buckingham Palace," Frisk admitted as he tossed the rag away. "So how long are you going to keep killing random goons? I mean, your not exactly going Rambo after…uh.. you know…"

"When he pissed on my family?" growled Zuma in such an empty tone it sent shivers down Frisk's spine. "I'll get him back for that, but I'll wait. I've leawned how to take my time in killing scum."

"Well, now you got the police after you too. The Chief really wants to put the needle in ya," replied Frisk.

"I don't care. As long as I get Stone in the end, I don't care," replied Zuma as he yawned. "I'm gonna take a nap."

"Yeah, yeah. Sleep tight, pup," replied Frisk as he watched the small pup close his eyes and drift off into sleep. It was almost adorable too, if you didn't forget this pup was a killing machine. _So, the pup's waiting for a chance to strike back, huh? Well, I better find something for him. Let's see if Lena has some info for me._

With that he quietly exited the shack.

* * *

It didn't take long for the Paw Patroller to arrive at Costal City's First Precinct thanks to some helpful directions from Detective Shaw. The said detective was waiting for them in the parking lot as they drove in, allowing the group to greet their old friend with some licks and handshakes. "Nice to see you again, Ryder. Wish it was under better circumstances," replied Detective Shaw as he patted the teenager on the shoulder.

"Same here, Detective Shaw," replied Ryder as he and the pups followed him into the prescient. "So, what's going on?"

"Right now, the entire city is on fire with everything that's been going on. Between Stone's actions and our mysterious vigilante, the entire city has been flooding the chief and the mayors phone with demands for action to be taken. Gun sales have gone through the roof with everyone getting what they can to protect themselves. Tourist attraction has taken a dive, but at least the beach is clean," he opened the door and let them in, getting the attention of some of the workers in the station as they passed by. "The good news it that most folks, including the officers around, are supporting the vigilante despite the Chief's objections. To them, its about time Damian Stone got someone after his hide. Can't blame them really."

"Has Damian Stone done anything since his… public broadcast?" asked Chase.

"No, he's been keeping silent for a bit. We nail some of the gangs doing stuff for him, but it small stuff like carrying guns or drugs. No, he's planning something, but I don't know what," replied Shaw as he took out a cigarette to smoke.

"I thought I told you to take that smoking habit of yours and do it outside!" shouted a large beefy man in what looked to be a high-ranking uniform. He walked towards Shaw and tried to grab it, but the detective was quicker to keep it from him.

"I'll stop when you stop takin shots of that tequila bottle you got hidden in your bottom left cabinet," Shaw shot back which made the large man huff and turn a bit purple. "Everyone, this lump of lard is my boss."

"I swear Shaw, one of these days…"

"Whatever Ralph Kramden," said Shaw as he puffed a cloud in his boss's face. "Are the FBI guys here yet?"

"Just arrived a few moments ago," replied The Chief as he motioned to a group walking towards them from the other side.

They were five in total, but what really caught their attention was that one of them was a German Shepperd dog. Unlike the pups, he was a full-grown young adult who had a seriously look on his face… and looked a bit familiar.

"Hey, Chase. Check it out. A FBI dog. Kinda what you wanna be when you get older huh?" asked Rubble, but he tilted his head upon seeing Chase's wide eyes. "Chase?"

The leader of the five, a male Caucasian with smooth black hair and ice blue eyes turned to the chief and nodded. "My team's all set up. We can begin planning our objectives at once." He then noticed the Paw Patrol and narrowed his eyes. "Is this them?"

"Yeah, this is Ryder and his Paw Patrol. Ryder this is FBI Agent Kennedy," replied Detective Shaw as Ryder walked forward and held out his hand.

"I see," replied Agent Kennedy as he ignored the hand and focused back on the chief. "Sir, I still stand by my recommendation that we do this without a group of children taking part in this."

"Hey, we may be young, but we've handled Damian Stone before," replied Rocky, growling.

"Yeah, we're not afraid," replied Skye.

Agent Kennedy turned to the chief who shrugged. "Governor wants them in. I can't do anything about it."

"Very well. Meet us in the meeting room when you and your team are ready, Ryder," replied Kennedy as he and the others turned around.

"Wait, Blue!" shouted Chase suddenly, causing the German Shepard agent to stop while keeping his back to him. "Aren't… aren't you going to say something?"

"… I'll say the same thing I said to you all those years ago," whispered the dog agent as he turned around and glared at Chase with his teeth showing. "Do us a favor and go kill yourself."

The entire patrol gasped at the harsh words while Chase just lowered his head and whimpered. Marshall, his face dawning in understanding, walked over and place his paw over his shoulder as the FBI walked away.

"What's his problem?! Who was that son of a bitch?!" shouted Skye, growling.

"He's my brother…" whispered Chase, making Rocky, Rubble, and Skye snap their heads towards him in shock. "Or… more accurately… he's my older half-brother."


	10. Planning To Strike

_**AN: Sorry for the lateness everyone, work has been busy with our project almost done and since it was the holidays, I figured I would just take those days off until I was free again to write. Now, I've been notified that my fic "Marshall Gone Missing" is on Encyclopedia Dramatica. Personally, I don't care, its fine my me if they mention it for whatever reason so there is no need to alert me about such things. As for hateful comments? I ignore them. Anyway, please enjoy the latest chapter.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol**_

* * *

 _ **"Man Plans God Laughs" -Popular Yiddish Proverb**_

* * *

There was a saying that said, "Ignorance is bliss". Chase didn't believe in such a thing until he learned of his true origins. Sometimes, he wondered if it would have been better to be just an orphan rather then the product of a rape. Knowing that you were the offspring of a victim and a criminal was bad, but knowing that your mother lost it, killed your siblings, and then herself in grief was worse. What made it an entire shitshow was when the relatives of that family, your half-siblings and your mother's mate, blamed you for it all.

Chase knew he wasn't to blame, Ryder had all but helped him through that phase. The family needed someone to blame for their loss even if it was illogical. After the disastrous meeting with his only remaining family, Chase had cut ties with them as a respect to their wishes to not seem him ever again.

Yet, he was still surprised that fate decided to make him meet his older half-brother after all these years. He knew of Blue, the oldest of his siblings, who had become everything their mother was and more. He knew he eventually became FBI, but he didn't think Blue would have wanted to work with Chase if either of them knew their groups would be working together.

 _Telling me to go die was a clear idea where his feelings are still after all these years,_ thought Chase as he walked around the police headquarters to familiar himself with its layout. It was going to be home base in their efforts to find Zuma and stop Damian Stone so he figured he used the time to check it out until the meeting started.

He wasn't honestly looking forward to Blue glaring at him, but Chase would ignore it as best as he could. The mission came first after all.

"You okay?" Chase turned around and saw Skye behind with concern all but written on her face. It warmed him knowing she cared, but he pushed those feelings down before giving her a nod. "I don't care what his issue is. He shouldn't have said that to you."

Chase sighed before nodding to a nearby soda machine a cop was using. After he left, the two walked over for privacy. "Look, don't blame him. He… he and the rest went through a rough time after our Mom died. I know it sounds like I'm giving him an excuse-"

"You are," muttered Skye, placing her paw on the ground hard. "Chase, I know your mother got… forced on and killed herself, but that wasn't your fault."

"It's more then that, Skye," Chase said, whimpering as he lowered his head. "She killed my siblings. The ones she gave birth too. How does it look when a K-9 Cop, a hero and looked to as a source of inspiration, kills innocent children in a mad rage before ending her own life?" Raising his head, he looked into her confused eyes. "She betrayed the very law she enforced. She committed murder, of pups. And instead of facing justice for her crime she took the easy way out. Her reputation, her name, her legacy was smeared in the mud. And all that survived from that crime was me. The product of that assault and the only one who wasn't killed. I don't know I was spared, but she did it."

Taking off his officer badge, he looked at it. The symbol of which he and his family had honored for years. "My half family was hounded by press. Their names became tied to the killer of pups. A disgraced officer who helped ruin her own family." Place it back on his chest, he sighed. "How do you recover from someone you love becoming a monster because of events out of her control? The city that you once loved to protect turn on you in a second for something she did. To have to suffer for her sin every day?"

Skye gave no answer, she just lowered her head as Chase continued, "Blaming me is just their way to deal with it. I know it, and I think deep down they know it too. I don't make a big deal of it because whatever pain I have is nothing compared to what they went through as a whole. So, I let him talk like that to me because it's just how he can deal with it. How he can keep that once grand image of our mother in his mind without accepting she became a monster."

"It's still wrong," whispered Skye.

"Yes, but sometimes we can't help but do the wrong thing. No matter how much we don't want to."

* * *

When the meeting was finally called into action, it was filled to the brim with so many people that Ryder could barely keep an idea where his pups were. Beside his team, there was Detective Shaw, a few others he trusted on the case in the same rank, the FBI team, S.W.A.T. and a red-headed female officer who oversaw the Gang Crime Unit.

"We're all gathered here today because Costal City is dealing with the worst gang leader in the city's history: Damian Stone," replied Detective Shaw, placing both hands on the table lying in the middle that had a map of the entire city. "Damian Stone has been highly active since his escape. All but the smallest of gangs are working with him again. Guns, drugs, theft, and more have increased 60% since his return. What gang members we arrest aren't saying anything, mostly out of fear."

He began to walk around the table, drumming it with his fingers. "Now, we all know what Damian is like. He's cold. Psychotic. And doesn't care for any kind of life; not even his own. He's killed men, women, children, dogs, cats, and more. Everything is pure game to him to kill and he revels in it." Pausing, he took a moment for everyone to get that before continuing, "I don't care how we do it. I don't care what methods we use. But Damian Stone needs to be either captured or taken out. He's planning something. Something big. He likes to make a spectacle out of his action, so whatever he's got under his sleeves is going to risk a lot of lives. We need to stop him before it happens."

He looked at everyone in the area with respect. "We got the best officers of our district here, along with three top tier S.W.A.T. units. We have the FBI, the Paw Patrol, and GCU's full team. The governor has given us a blank check but be warned. This blank check is going to be used to support this team, so if I see one requisition for something as small as a condom for you to bang the Mayor's secretary, I'll have your balls nailed to my door." There were a few snickers, but the glares of the more senior representatives hushed that.

Walking to the table, he placed a marker on an area northwest of the map. Crossing his arms, Detective Shaw said, "No, I don't know if he's doing it to taunt us or if he's actually made a mistake, but Damian Stone has managed to turn his former HQ into a working progress again." He eyed a few of the nearby officers. "Some of you might remember that this is where we captured the bastard the first time. While its not his main HQ anymore, it is a major site for the products his gang members are shipping. Information might also be available there, plus it would do a serious blow to Stone's operation. Maybe get him to mess up in anger."

"Do we know what kind of resistance we'll be dealing with?" Agent Kennedy asked.

"One of my men scouted the area, it's a fortress," replied the head of the Gang Unit. "From what we can tell they got men stationed everywhere and alarm system to warn them of anything coming thirty feet from the wall."

"Can we slip someone in an disable them?" Ryder asked.

"You'd have to find someone with stealth training and small enough to go undetected," she replied.

"I can do it," replied Chase, standing up as all eyes went on him. Including his brother. Gulping, he calmed himself before professionally reporting, "I can use my Spy Gear to get in. Rocky can walk me through on how to disable the alarm system."

"Sure, shouldn't be too hard," Rocky seconded.

"No offence, while you are the right size and you have some good training, I'm not trusting this to just one pup," replied Agent Kennedy before turning to a surprised Blue. "Agent Blue, you're going to accompany Officer Chase."

"Sir?" whispered Blue, narrowing his eyes.

"Your personal feelings are to remain subsided, Agent," warned Agent Kennedy as he glares back. "You will work with Officer Chase."

Blue growled before facing Chase who did his best to look calm. "Understood."

"The rest of us can plan a full-on assault after the system is taken down," said Detective Shaw, hoping to refocus attention on the operation. "Now, this is what I propose…"

* * *

"You're sure about this?" Zuma asked for the sixth time. When Frisk returned saying he had good information for Zuma, he didn't expect it to be this good.

"Yup, my contact tells me it's true," answered Frisk with a grin. The white terrier laid back on his half-ruined couch and crossed his rear legs. "Damian Stone's got some big holdout where a lot of his goods are shipped from. Everything from full on AK-47's to Angel Dust. It's also got a record area for where his stuff is going to and from."

"Will he be there?" asked Zuma, getting his cloak.

"He only visits once every week and the last time he did that was two days ago. So, I doubt it," replied Frisk as he tilted his head. "You seriously thinking of going in there alone?"

"Yes, but not now," replied Zuma, shaking his head. "I'm not stupid to just charge in without a plan. I'm going to scout it out today and take action tomorrow."

"You going to blow it up?" the terrier asked, "Cause that last boom you made got a lot of attention."

"Tempting, but no. I'll inform the police about it and let them take care of it. I just want the information," Zuma replied as he opened the door. Pausing, he turned around and nodded his head. "Thanks, Frisk. You didn't have to do this."

"Eh, just make sure you don't get killed on this crusade of yours. Or me for that matter," replied Frisk, shrugging.

For the first time since meeting him, Zuma smiled and nodded before leaving to plan his next move.


	11. Warehouse Warzone Part 1

_**AN: Back. Not much to say other then I'm back to working again so updates might be slow or chapters might be short. Enjoy.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol**_

* * *

 _ **"In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable" -Dwight D. Eisenhower**_

* * *

" _Overlord this is Insertion Team. Target is thirty feet and closing."_

" _Roger. Sniper team standing by."_

" _This is Red Team, standing by."_

" _Blue Team. Waiting for orders."_

" _Gold Team in position. Over."_

Agent Kennedy reached for his mike and said, "Alright, all teams but Infiltration stand by. Infiltration Team, you are green light."

After getting a clear, the radios went silent as Agent Kennedy and Ryder, who was right beside him, moved over to the other side of the large command post vehicle the police had set up for them about five miles away from where the action was going to be. Ryder had hoped to be there with his pups on the mission, but he felt it was best to command his pups with the various cameras they all had in the vehicle. Currently, he and Agent Kennedy were right beside Rocky who was using Chase's Spy Drone to scout the area while watch Chase stealthy move with Agent Blue.

Ryder bit his lip. He had been worried about Agent Blue and Chase working together, but aside from that one remark there hadn't been any trouble. Focusing on the task at hand, Ryder asked, "How's the security system look, Rocky?"

"Well, if I had to guess it was your standard A7 Jinpai Pheonix Security System," the mixed breed explained as he zoomed the camera in more. "The alarms are connected to the Cameras which are able to identify friend from foe by face reconnection software developed by China. So, if somebody unfamiliar was to appear that didn't have a face they recognized or a face already programmed as a danger, the guards would be alerted of which camera and rush to see what's going on."

"That's simple?" Agent Kennedy asked, eyebrow raised.

"Well, I've handled harder. Like that time, we had to break into that vault to rescue to those deeds to prevent some oil tycoon from digging up some of the farms back in Adventure Bay," Rocky replied with a shrug, earning a smirk from Ryder and a confused look from Agent Kennedy. "Regardless, these kind of security systems always have one weakness. Fine the one power station they're all connected to it and the system goes down. That will allow us to get the drop on them."

"How does a young dog like you know so much? Most dogs in the technical department had to go through college just to learn the basics," Agent Kennedy asked with an impressed tone.

Rocky smirked before winking his eye to Ryder. "I learned from the best."

* * *

If Chase had to be honest with himself, there was something to sneaking around that he loved personally. Maybe it had to do with his ancestral hunter DNA due to dogs being descendants of wolves and all. Or maybe he just saw to many spy movies growing up. Regardless, he felt more at ease in his stealth outfit then he did in his police officer uniform. The only thing that was just uncomfortable was that he was doing a spying mission with his older half-brother who hated him.

Blue was wearing a something that looked like a thinner version of SWAT armor but designed for agility and maneuverability. There were patches containing some gear as well a holster for a gun that would unload itself upon a simple bark system like his pup pack. Unlike Chase, he didn't have a helmet and just had an earpiece and microphone. Blue had all but ordered that Chase follow his every move and Chase made no effort to respond back with nothing but simple nods.

Thankfully, Blue had been professional so far, but that might have been because every second near the factory was putting their lives in danger. The two German Shepherds huddle under a bush where a wire fence was blocking them from their window entrance. This was the only place that didn't have any cameras that would spot them, but it did have two guards who were patrolling the place with machine guns.

"Overlord, this is Infiltration Team. We're at the location. We need our distraction ready," Blue whispered into his mic.

" _Roger. Standing by."_

The two waited for awhile until they heard a thump sound nearby followed by the ringing of a car alarm. The two guards turned to the sound with their guns raised before one of them groaned. "Damnit. How many times have I told them my car is sensitive? Ugh!"

The two guards walked towards the sound which allowed Chase and Blue to rush over to the fence and slowly barked to bring out their wire cutters. Working together at the same speed, they managed to make a big enough hole for them to crawl through. When they were both in the clear, they hurried over to the window where they jumped inside and lay low just in case there was anyone nearby, but to their fortune they had managed to end up in storage closet.

"This is Inflitration Team. We're in. Nice work with that distraction," Blue replied on his mic.

" _Uh, say that again, Blue? We didn't activate it yet."_

Both Chase and Blue's eyebrows lit up as Chase then spoke into his mic. "Overlord, you mean that car alarm wasn't your doing?"

" _Negative."_

"Huh. I guess we were just lucky."

* * *

"Idiots," Zuma whispered as he slowly crawled into the air vent he managed to loosen with a good kick. During his training in the woods, Owiel had him continue to learn how to use and manipulate human machines saying it would be important. He lost track on how many days it took for him to cause a car alarm to go off or to hot wire a car's engines. Then there was the training of trying to be invisible to your surrounding areas. Doing so in the forest was one thing, but cameras and security systems were another.

A town nearby had a warehouse district that Zuma used to train himself to respond to such systems, but they were rough times. He got caught a lot and often thrown out or beaten up by the guard dogs and security officers. Yet with every painful lesson he grew better until he was practically a ninja. After causing a distraction to alert several guards, Zuma managed to open an air vent that allowed him to crawl inside.

Opening the opposite end, he looked around and found himself in what appeared to be the corner of the main area with crates surrounding him. Poking his head out, he saw a dozen workers gathering guns and putting them in crates while some in forklifts were moving them around. _Looks like they're busy loading up a new shipment. Hopefully that will mean they'll be too busy to notice me._

Despite his desire to destroy the place now, he had to focus on finding information first about where Damian Stone was before doing such a thing. Making sure his hood was covering his face, Zuma disappeared back into the shadows to find his data.

* * *

Slowly opening the door, both Chase and Blue checked the opposite end of the hallway with their guns drawn to nothing but air. Nodding to Chase, Blue lead the two down his side of the hall where they stacked up against a door before Chase slowly opened it. A human dressed like your typical gangster was checking his phone with his machine gun strapped behind him. Chase made the first move by kicking his legs in before Blue clamped his jaw over his neck. The human barely had a chance to let out a sound before Chase's gun was pointed at his face while his paw was over his mouth to indicate to be quiet.

Realizing his predicament, he nodded in silent agreement.

Letting go of his prey, Blue stood up and stared at the sweating human. "Answer our questions or we will not hesitate to silence you permanently. Got it?" Another nod and Blue continued, "How many men are in this warehouse?"

"At least 30."

"Where can we find the main processing room to shut down the security?"

"I think on the third floor, but I don't know where. You'll need a card to get in because only high-ranking members are allowed," the human whispered. "That's all I know."

"Good. Now goodnight. Ruff. Gas can," Blue whispered before a spay can came out of his suit and gassed the human into blissful sleep. "Looks like we're going to need to find a high-ranking member of this gang and take the card off him."

" _I got an idea,"_ came in Ryder's voice from their radios. _"The FBI and Police have face shots of Damian Stone's gang. Hopefully, if we scan the faces of the gangsters in the area, we can find one of the higher-ranking members or at least close enough to start looking to see if they have a key card."_

Chase then smiled. "And I got an idea on how to do it. We need to head to the main area."

"Wait a minute, I'm in charge of this team and we're going to-"

"There isn't any time! Trust me, I what I'm doing."

"I'm the more experienced agent! So I say-"

" _Both of you be quiet!"_ Agent Kennedy said on the other line, shutting them up. _"Chase what is your idea?"_

"But sir-"

" _It won't hurt to hear what he has to say."_

"I was going to use my wall walkers to climb up the wall and use the height up above as a vantage point. Then using my camera we can scan the faces before having Agent Blue take the highest ranking one out," Chase explained.

" _Sounds like a plan. Agent Blue, you down for this?"_

The older German Sheperd narrowed his eyes and looked at Chase with a frown. Chase, to his credit, kept himself looking as professional as possible even though he really wanted to do this idea. Finally, Agent Blue sighed and said, "It's fine."

" _Good, move out,"_ Agent Kennedy said before ending the line.

The two prepared to move but before they did, Chase whispered, "It will work, Agent Blue. I promise."

His older brother didn't respond. He just silently led them onward.

* * *

Ducking between the crates was an easy task as Zuma's size and dark skin helped him hide among the shadows of the work area. So far the guards and workers weren't giving much information as he listened in on the various conversations. Some were about their lives outside of being criminals while others were about what Damian Stone was planning.

Apparently, the guns were being shipped from Russia to a port in the next down over. Damian had a deal with the Russians in exchange for the guns, but what that deal was nobody knew.

"What kind of deal do you think Damian is givin' these Russian guys? Drugs?" asked on worker on his break to a guard hanging out near the stairs of the second floor. Zuma was hiding between two trash cans and listening in.

"I think I got an idea, but be sure not to tell anyone, okay?" the guard said as he looked around to see if anybody was listening in or focusing on them. "Okay, you know the lower east end area of town? The place where al the hookers and prostitute rings hang out? One of my buddies says he's been seeing the gang heading into there and coming back with woman that are never seen again. My guess is he's supplying the Russians with woman for their sex rings."

"Hard to see why the want our woman. Russians woman I've seen are like super models."

 _Hmm, might be a place to check out after this,_ thought Zuma as he made a mental note to check the area out. If he couldn't disrupt the workings here then he might have a chance to distrust the sex selling. Of course, that didn't help in figuring out where he was going to get his information on more about Stone and his actions. Thinking about it, he figured to find the gangster with the most 'bling' as those tended to often be the leaders or important figures.

Slowly, Zuma made his way to the to a box and slowly jumped onto it to take a better look around the area. He saw some putting the guns into boxes, others walking around in patrol, and a few just standing around talking to each other. That's when saw a big Caucasian looking guy in a big brown jacket with tattoos all over his arms. His hair was a yellow mohawk with golden earrings, nose clippings, golden rings, golden chains, and even a pistol with a golden gun grip. Zuma couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. _Geez, you'd think he rob Fort Knox or something._

With his target in mind, Zuma slowly made his way down and tried to get close to the golden covered gangster.

* * *

Chase and Blue managed to avoid getting detected as they hugged a nearby wall where he could get a good view of the area up above. "Ruff! Wall climbers!" Chase whispered, as his boots popped out the wall climbers and allowed him to put all four of his legs on the wall. He turned to his brother and smiled. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Rolling his eyes, Blue just turned away. "Just get up there already."

Nodding, Chase focused on climbing the wall as quietly as he could. Moving at an even pace, he managed to avoid getting spotted before making it up to the roof where he grabbed a ceiling beam to hold him steady. Looking downward, he contacted Ryder. "Overlord, you upload the program to my visor?"

" _Ready Chase, search away."_

Slowly moving his head around, Chase used his goggles to zoom in on various figures down blow. One by one he saw their mug shots and data on their records thanks to the visuals on his visor. When his eyes focused on a big figure with a log to gold jewelry and a mohawk he smirked on what he was reading. "Bingo. Lenny Goldberg. Known Lieutenant. Looks like our guy."

" _I'll move on him and see if I can swipe the keycard_. _Or at least knock him out somewhere so I can get it without getting noticed,"_ replied Blue.

"Right, I'll stay up here and… wait a minute…" Chase narrowed his eyes as he some something in the shadows moving behind their target. "Hang on, I think I see something. Arf, Night Vision."

His visor turned green as the figure in the shadows became clearer, but he couldn't get a good look at them. They were a dog, that much he could tell, but they were hidden behind cloak. He was about to report this when the figure finally moved that allowed him to get a sight of his face and in a split second everything froze for Chase as he stared at the figure. His body froze up to the point where he looked almost like a gargoyle on the edge of a gothic cathedral. It had been months since he had seen that face. Those eyes that once held such joy in them that now seemed so cold and broken. He had lived with that pup for years and his face never once left Chase's memory.

"Zuma…" he whispered in disbelief, coving his mouth with his paws while tears began to form under his eyes. He was alive. His friend was alive!

" _Repeat that again?"_

Chase was almost ready to shout it out when he stopped himself, remembering that the police wanted to have Zuma arrested for his earlier vigilante work. He bit his lip and shook his head. "Nothing, just a rat. Continue on."

" _Roger."_

Chase sighed in relief when he heard the com go dark. He looked at where Zuma was hiding and began to worry what would happen if his older brother saw Zuma. _What's he even doing here?! How did he know about this?!_ There was no time to think about it now. He had to let Ryder know, but how? _I can't call him directly, it would be too suspicious… Maybe…"_

With a thought in mind, Chase quickly made a call.

* * *

It honestly felt good to be in action again in Marshall's mind. Having spend the last few months dealing with what he had seen thanks to Damian Stone, he all but wanted to get out there and do something to finally put the ghosts of his failure to rest. Even though the others said that what happened to that mother and her unborn child wasn't his fault, he still felt that if he hadn't gotten captured then such a thing wouldn't have happened in the first place. While a part of the dalmatian wanted to be in on the action using his H.A.V.O.C. armor like Rubble and Skye were, he knew that the building needed to be intact and his armor was used for burning things down. _Kinda ironic for a firefighter pup like me._

Plus, they would need medics one way or another. He had no illusions that things were going to run a hundred percent smoothly and was expecting an amount of lives to be hurt or killed. _Not that I'll mourn the bad guys._

The old Marshall would have been disgusted with the idea of taking lives, but after everything that has happened since that day Stone escaped, he hadn't found himself to care about the scum he had killed. It wasn't going to bring him peace, nor did he actively want to kill these bastards who worked for such a scumbag, but Marshall wasn't going to cry over them. He would cry for the victims, but not for them.

He was double checking the amount of morphine they near the medical tent they set up, but when he heard his pup tag go of he told the other medics he'll be back before exiting the tent. "Go for Marshall."

" _Marshall, it's me. Are you alone?"_ Chase asked on the other end.

"Chase? Why are you calling me while you're in the middle of the infiltration?" Marshall asked in disbelief.

" _Listen, I don't have a lot of time. Zuma is here!"_

It took Marshall a few seconds for his brain to processes what his best friend just said. "W-what? Zuma? Where?!"

" _Inside the warehouse. I don't know why he is here or what is going on, but you need to tell Ryder. If the police find him…"_

"Right! I'm on it!" Marshall shouted as he rushed towards the command post vehicle with all the haste he could muster. "I've got a bad feeling about this."


End file.
